RV’s are everywhere,
all summer,
in our small village
of two thousand souls.
in our small village
of two thousand souls.
They lumber along our narrow streets
like huge carnivores,
in search of elusive parking spots
in which to graze.
At the two four corner stops,
tourists cluster, indecisive,
trying to decide which corner to visit.
Drivers wait, some patiently, some not,
for them to choose.
Folks are everywhere in August.
CoOp cashiers are polite, efficient,
but their eyes are glazed.
The other day there were
five THOUSAND transactions -
five THOUSAND transactions -
and still the clerks remain
pleasant and wonderful.
pleasant and wonderful.
Finally, September will come.
Smiling faces will come up the hill
to the CoOp,
gather on the corner
by the Post Office,
catch up on the news;
observe the weather,
the touch of coolness
as the season slowly turns.
“I’m so glad fall is coming,”
I say to the clerk as I buy my veggies.
“Oh, I KNOW!” she replies fervently,
and we share a smile.
We wait all summer for its end,
when the town returns to us
once more
and our local life
resumes.
The familiar buildings
invite us in,
to linger over produce,
make of our small purchases
a social thing.
Our pace slows;
we can see each other now.
We smile as we pass.
“Beautiful day!”
“Oh, it is!”
Down the hill on First Street,
(we have four side streets
and two main,
in our downtown core)
the water shines in late-summer sun.
Clouds wisp along Wah-nah-juss;
small aluminum boats putt-putt
across the harbour.
The village soon will be
ours again;
ours again;
we embrace the fog,
the coolness,
ready our rain gear,
our boots,
our boots,
anticipate the wildness
of winter waves.
Tuff City basks and smiles
at season's end.
Its young people bicycle gayly
Its young people bicycle gayly
along the common path,
surfboards attached to the sides
of their bikes.
Seniors gather at
the seaside with
mugs of tea.
mugs of tea.
Shorebirds flock
along the beach
resting up for
along the beach
resting up for
their passage south.
Dogs run in and out
of the waves
with loopy grins.
Dogs run in and out
of the waves
with loopy grins.
And I am grateful
for it all:
each little thing.
Its beauty fills my heart;
it is the song I sing.
Sounds like you live in a busy tourist place in the summer. I imagine that must be hard with all the visitors. I know the beauty of it all fills your heart. Keep singing my friend.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a pleasant and restful poem Sherry except that summer part. Lovely to see the beautiful sketch of Tofino and its coming back to itself after the summer. I find these lines amazing and heartfelt :
ReplyDeleteThe other day there were
five THOUSAND transactions -
and still the clerks remain
pleasant and wonderful.
Oh, Sherry, August in your town sounds like it is more for the tourists than the locals. The town that the tourists see sounds much different than what you locals experience other months of the year. But still touristy August has its beauty, and September is right around the corner!
ReplyDelete"They lumber along our narrow streets
ReplyDeletelike huge carnivores,
in search of elusive parking spots
in which to graze."
Wonderful image. I feel like running in the opposite direction. The politeness of shopkeepers must extend to inhabitants, who observe and wait til fall and winter to take back the town. I hear you singing this, humming as you walk down to the water.
I love how this ends and the feeling of having the community back to yourselves again - there are good things to look forward to in Autumn months - Jae
ReplyDeleteI can imagine how locals feel about hordes of tourists... must be nice to reclaim the town!!! It does sound like a charming, friendly place....
ReplyDeleteOh Sherry this poem is the beginning of a novel or short story - truly fabulous .. and the season ending and a return to quiet is one that resonates with me in my seaside area ..
ReplyDeleteI am so happy that you love where you live Sherry (in spite of the tourist months) It is such a blessing !....Rall
ReplyDeleteThank you for the photo of the totem, Sherry. I’ve never seen on in real life. Your village of 2,000 looks like a busy, interesting place compared to our quiet little village of 331, although we have some summer visitors at the local campsites and holiday cottages. Most families are getting ready for the annual return to school now. We have a bank holiday this weekend, so there may be more, but they are more interested in the Norfolk Broads, sailing and canoeing, or the coast. These lines reflect my feelings about the end of August:
ReplyDelete‘observe the weather,
the touch of coolness
as the season slowly turns’
and
‘we embrace the fog,
the coolness,
ready our rain gear,
our boots,
anticipate the wildness
of winter waves’.
"Finally September will come" - There is a relentlessness as seasons turn and you have captured this.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful poem, I love it. Soon it will be your's again, then the peace and quiet of winter. annell
ReplyDeleteSherry you have done a marvelous job here of depicting your beloved home! Summer people are a phenomenon in some places in my state, including Mackinaw Island, famous for its fudge. The locals there call the yearly summer invaders "fudgies." That makes me laugh!
ReplyDeleteI can feel the hustle and bustle you have described so wonderfully Sherry. I am glad that things will wind down where you live and you can enjoy the cooler weather and neighbors more. I too love the fall and I love your closing grateful lines my friend!
ReplyDeleteOur village, on stolen land. Imagine how the Indigenous feel!
ReplyDelete