Out-of-Season October

I am huddled under heather-purple wool, writing about the darkness of fall and the sadness of all these hurricane-stripped trees, when little Ivy (always green) pops in the door of the camper with a handful of forget-me-nots.

Where in this browning world did you find spring blooms?

And she smiles and tells me about a giant cement tunnel and a stream, “You know, THE stream” (but I don’t), and her brother fills out the geographical details, and I nod, knowing, and send him for one of my tiny bottle vases.

I take tender shoots in hand, look at happy yellow centres, like suns in miniature, adored by five (or six – one blossom has exceeded the standard) pale blue petals, open-faced to the end of October, with buds still about to burst like a May morning. 

To be sure, a giant tunnel is a mysterious place (portal to what other world?), but I had not expected this. Not in this past-the-frost remnant of autumn, which already feels like November, this colourless, storm-reeling island. Not this cheerful nosegay that even smells like spring. 

I inhale slowly, absorbing sweetness into my lungs, and the strangeness of this small, out-of-season sacrament. Our reckoning of time is not the only way to mark the meaning of days. 

Who is to say the source of deep-rooted signals sent to push this particular handful of blue into the view of one six year old on a Saturday ramble with dad, and bring it to me in the dimming light? 

I only know that I was, indeed, feeling forgotten, and now I’m not. 

~ Lindsey Gallant

Lindsey Gallant
A northern girl living the island life. Follower of Jesus. Writer, book nerd, nature lover. Homeschool mom and Charlotte Mason enthusiast. Prefers pen and paper.


  1. Oh, to know that we are heard and seen, cared for with such tenderness … Thank you, for sharing this tiny smile the summer left behind … this grand blessing of knowing we are not forgotten … ever!

    1. Yes! It was one of those rather astounding moments of care. And I didn’t even realize I had been feeling forgotten, till I was given the reminder of remembrance, if that makes sense? He gives what we need, even before we can articulate it. (And I love that God speaks the love language of flowers!)

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