midlife musings & refusing to rush

Italian prune plums are here! Their presence signals the shifting seasons and the transition to fall. They have the power to time travel me backwards through the decades to when I was just thirteen years old and had moved to live with my nana and grandpa following my parents’ divorce.

My grandfather was so thrilled with the abundance his prune plum trees provided. And each year that abundance very quickly morphed into overwhelm. What the heck to do with all of them?

I was sent to my grade eight home economics lab with enough of them for the entire class to make jam and still came back with leftovers. He once sent us a huge garbage bag full of them by bus to Edmonton prior to our moving. Those poor sweating plums traveled 12 long hours. We received a bag of mush. Grandpa hated wasting anything but these plums were too much to keep up with. Each year when they show up on my trees, I remember him and his plum trees.

I love how nature signals to us that the wheel of the year is on the move. There is beautiful impermanence to life but with a constant familiarity. A cycle. First, the plums, then the apples, followed by the pumpkins. Then, it's time to get cozy and begin descending into the winter months, the hibernation, the slowing down. The dreaming by the fire time.

I spent many seasons resisting the turning of the wheel and suffered because of it. I wanted summer to stay forever. I pushed back against the falling leaves, the cooler temperatures, against the rain, and eventually the snow. I felt sad when summer was shifting to fall.

Several years back, I noticed that if I mirrored my energy to match the season, I felt soothed, connected, and in touch with things much larger than myself. I began to choose to be excited by the coming of the newest season, no matter which one was showing up at my door. This is how I imagine our ancestors must have lived. So very in tune with the wheel's turning. There was no other way but to embrace and be ready for what was coming, what was here. To resist the rhythm of the seasons would have left them in a precarious unprepared way. No grocery stores nor central heating to see them through.

I love how the seasons and the fruit they offer usher in the memories of my loved ones long past. When I gather my plums and use them in whatever ways I can, it is as though my grandpa is right beside me, brought to life once again. Absent in physical form but with me still. These plums help me conjure memories and feelings of this time of year from years gone by. Those memories are with me always and therefore, so is he.

I think about how much my grandpa would love all the ways I have found to use the abundance that my plums trees have provided over the years. Far beyond the fruit they generously offer… They have been a place of refuge and healing which I tell about in my podcast recordings.

One year, a coffee session with a group of girlfriends at my place suddenly morphed into an impromptu group jam-making session. My kitchen was sticky by the end, and the belly laughs that morning are cherished memories now.

This year I found a delicious herbal plum tea recipe I share below. I love the creativity that comes with having such a generous tree in my garden.

I also know not to send my extra plums to you in a plastic bag by bus to wherever you are. I learned that lesson from Grandpa…

I hope you are finding ways to embrace this transitional time of farewell to summer and hello to cozy sweaters and warm sips…