A Farewell to Summer (Cottage).
Visgorod – August 28th 2007 – My wife and I trundle down the dusty road in front of our summer cottage, saying a goodbye to our neighbors. For some, it is goodbye, because we will not see them until next summer. For others, it’s “see you soon”, because we will be back every weekend possible while weather permits. And for others? Well, more about them later.
We spend the day gathering up the everyday things we moved out here three months ago. Clothing, small kitchen appliances and utensils, my computer and camera, and Pasha’s toys. There is a part of me that’s excited to get back to Kiev full time. What excites me? The bathroom and shower in the same flat where we eat and sleep is a pleasure when the evenings start turning cool and the skies get dark early. Additional modern conveniences we don’t have in Visgorod. Fast Internet, and fewer reasons to go outside, so I can get my work done.
But the passing of the summer cottage season leaves me profoundly sad too. For the return to Kiev and the shortening days mean that summer will soon recede into memory too. The river water at our beach will gain an unpleasant chill. Outdoor barbecues will morph into dinner cooked on the stove at home. The leaves will soon drop from our apple, cherry, pear, and walnut trees. Natali’s cheery flower and rose garden will droop and fade. Our tomatoes will yield their last fruits and go the way of the cucumbers, corn, and strawberries before it. The one major task that remains is to gather the grapes and try our hand at wine again.
There was a time, not too long ago, when I thought there was a special skill to barbecue. A skill I did not possess. But our massive stone grill burning real wood made me into a master quickly. The same goes for winemaking. I never envisioned myself making wine. Ever. But after a minimally successful try last year, we hope to succeed this time.
Sad. The fading of summer and the progression to fall and winter.
And so we proceed down the street with our goodbyes. Goodbye to Elena “Cat Lady”. Widowed, 74 years old, with two cats. Although she does not have heat in her cottage, she will likely remain here through October, as usual. Twice a week she will walk 15 minutes to catch a bus into town to buy supplies, and make the return trip.
Nina and Kola. Married 58 years, going on eternity. The man is either a saint, or deaf, or an expert at tuning her out. She rarely has a nice thing to say, and always directs his each and every task from the bench near the door. She seems to be mostly blind, but we have our doubts sometimes.
The doctor down the road, the only one else here who has good English, besides my wife and I. I’ve had yet to figure out what to say to the guy though.
Marina and her husband (what’s his name again)? And Roy the dog. He’s always ready for a game of fetch or a swim in the river.
And Pasha’s friends. And his birthday in July. And the memorable moments children always seem to come up with from out of nowhere. If we could just get him past his shyness…
The memories of a summer well spent.
Oh, what about the others mentioned in the first paragraph? Three people from the local community who were with us last year were not this year. No, they didn’t move, they passed away. All, in one-way or another, related to alcohol. Then I look down the street at a neighbor we saw infrequently this summer, Tatiana. She has two moods, both alcohol induced. One, depressed as all hell or ready to dance and party all night. She was with her husband at the beach two weeks ago, and twice she just fell, flat on her face. Does her husband know she’s drinking herself to death?
Will we see her again? Only time will tell, and it’s secrets must await a future day.
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