Hey hey,
How are you?
Earlier this week I was looking down at the valley from a taverna in the hills. The recent rainfall has returned to the variegated canopy of trees – mainly olive, plane, conifer, pine and birch – the depth to its range of greens, which had slowly faded as May progressed into June and July. The hottest part of summer is behind us and the land, once parched and beige, is coming back to life. The temperature has dropped just enough that it is now possible to perform simple tasks like lifting a finger without becoming drenched in sweat, and occasional clouds that sometimes bring rain shade us on bike rides. On the tracks through the hills, wild grasses and herbs are regaining their colour and fragrance. Crocuses are blooming as if it’s spring again. Fig trees are dropping their soft, overripe fruit which splat on the floor and draw crowds of wasps and insects, and the vines around which I lead my afternoon rides are bulging with grapes. Pomegranates, quince, wild pear, almonds – every tree, bush or vine that can bear fruit is bent under its weight, and the whole valley is a picture of prosperity. Summer is clearly reaching its end, and the harvest season is about to begin.
As well as giving me hay fever for the first time in months, this change serves as a reminder that the end of this season is approaching. Soon enough these thousands of fruits will have fallen to the earth and rotted into the ground under a layer of dead leaves, and I will be without a job, without somewhere to live, and without a routine. When I’m in high spirits, it’s an opportunity – no dependencies, no responsibilities, lots of options. But it can also seem pretty daunting. I’m confident that I’ll work something out in time, but I wonder for how many months or years I will live in this way – laying track in front of me just in time, like Gromit riding the model train in The Wrong Trousers.
The most obvious reminder that the season is entering the later stages is the departure of some of the team. This week, three people left to return to the UK and a couple more will be leaving next week. As a result, it has been a week of final meals, final breakfasts, final lunches, final Wild Wind nights out, final Club Vass Fridays, etc etc. It’s been fun because everyone is on top form when it’s someone’s last time at one of many activities we do every week. Thinking back, I don’t think the desk-jockey version of myself ever thought I’d be capable of a consecutive run of late nights and early mornings like this, and perhaps he was right: the energy reserves are empty and I’ve spent the week propped up with caffeine. And my mild cold has developed into a chesty cough, which means people tend to sit very far away from me in cafes.
People come and go so gradually here that only when I consciously think back do I realise how different the team is now from when we started back in May. Around half have been here for the duration, the rest are late starters or early finishers. All these people moving through demonstrate how inconsequential the relationships we form out here are. People who you’d spend hours with, who seemed pivotal to the group dynamic, disappear and fade almost from memory within weeks. Newbies quickly settle in and it feels like they’ve been here the whole time. I suppose the same thing happens in regular life as people move between jobs and cities and social circles, but it seems to be accelerated here. Having said that, I know there are, and already have been, a handful of people who I will truly be sad to see go, and will try to keep in contact with despite living disparate lives beyond this season.
I’m expecting the remaining crew to settle into things once again once this batch of people are gone, which will hopefully give me a chance to catch up on sleep, improve my health, and continue to lay foundations for November.
Keen as ever to hear how your week has been.
Love,
James
p.s. the list of recipients for this is growing and I’m aware that there is currently no way to unsubscribe from this email. Considering moving back onto Mailchimp or similar to give this option. Thoughts (and prayers)?
