Waiting for the Run
"If you spend much time in the country, you are used to waiting. Each year, we wait for the corn to come up, the pigs to put on weight, the potatoes to mature, the river to go down, the ground to thaw out, the rain to come, the rain to stop, and the weather to clear for haying. Nothing is immediate. Everything is in the process of becoming...
I have sat in the woods many November evenings waiting for a buck and he never showed. I have waited for a 12-year-old to kiss me goodbye at the bus stop and she never does. I waited for a friend to come home from the war and he didn't.
We just have to learn to be patient, to know that our time is spent in transition, in waiting rooms of our imagination. And then, one day, we wake up and realize that the sap isn't going to run. There will be no boil, no steam, and no syrup. The fish doesn't rise to the fly, the woods remain cold and empty, and you never see your friend again. I guess we had better learn to enjoy the waiting."
What beautiful writing.
I would have selected this magazine for its recipes and its recommendations for kitchen equipment, but now I'll be begging to borrow back issues from my mother so I can read the editorials. Who would've thunk?