Dear Friends
I saw the constellation Orion the other night, the first time in several years. We live in a pretty dense neighborhood in the centre of Montreal, but I used to be able to pick it out often when I came home on a frosty night.
The North Star was visible then too and sometimes some of the other more prominent stars. But neighbours have been installing brighter and brighter lights and now the only "star" I can see with an regularity from home is Venus. This, I've learned, is light pollution, and it is just one of the givens of life in North America in the 21st century.
So I was delighted when I looked out the window when I was staying with friends recently and saw Orion splendidly taking up a tenth of the sky. Their house is in a suburb on the fringes of an urban area so the ambient light is much less, and it is almost possible to imagine that one is back in a simpler, less electric time...
Of course, looking back is one of the temptations of people in my age bracket. There are moments when it seems nothing is going right: war in Ukraine; war between Israel and Hamas; massive forest fires; exreme weather; rising waters; more than half a million public sector workers striking in Quebec; Donald Trump, Pierre Poilievre and François Legault.
Yet the truth is that the stars are always there if we know where to look. They have seen a lot. We would do well to remember that it's the long game that matters, and we must continue doing what needs to be done, no matter how dark it sometimes seems.
And we have had some moments of star-shine this year:
Elin and company are very pleased with the condo they moved into this spring. She's now senior development officer for the Faculty of Music at the Université de Montréal, and Stuart continues with Environment Canada. Jeanne is thriving: one of her activities is the Petites Voix du Plateau chorale and her lovely contralto blends wonderfully with the others. Here's a LINK to them singing "Étoile filante," or "shooting star." She's the pretty girl with glasses, half-hidden by the microphone stand.
Lukas and Sophie are spending a great deal of time being hockey parents, since both the boys are now playing a couple of times a week. They took a camping trip to the Gaspé peninsula last summer, and found it just as terrific as Lee and I had a couple of years previously. But for the nearly four weeks Sophie has been on strike for more support and better working conditions along with more than 60,000 teachers. It hasn't been easy for anyone, and I helped out a bit. The upside was that I got to spend some quality time with the boys, including listening to Louis read his first chapter book aloud.
My book Against the Seas: Saving Civilizations from Rising Waters came out this spring. I'd like to think that it may make a small difference in getting people to see what we must do to counter the climate crisis. Now I'm working on a project about what to do next, entitled provisionally Thanks to the Memories: How Remembering Will Get Us through the Next 75 Years. At the moment it's not going all that well, but I think that, if the stars are aligned properly, I'll finish it before I reach my "best before" date!
Also looking forward to the full moon on Christmas Eve. The last time there was one, Elin was two, there was fresh snow on the ground and the walk home through a park after dinner with friends was truly wonderful. The forecast this year is for clouds and rain, but I know the moon and the stars are out there which will be a comfort as we stumble along toward the future.
Bisous à toutes et tous, they say around here. Hope you can spend some happy times with friends and family as the 2023 ends and 2024 approaches.
Mary
Note: all photos by me, except for one of Orion, which is from Wikidata. Wasn't swift enough in the middle of the night to take a photo myself.
