As in nature, the fall season has always been a transformative one for me… it’s been a time of saying goodbye to the things I’ve grown to love and of stepping through a dark doorway to another world where I never know what tomorrow might bring… of all the memories of autumns past, one special one shines brightly even after all these years. It was this very week in October 1970 that my family emigrated here from Pakistan. As much as we loved our homeland, an impending civil war and religious and economic discrimination led us to the safety of Canada. Our journey here was fear-filled but hopeful …
After surviving a bomb threat as well as having one of our planes fly through an ominous thunderstorm, at age six, I felt like Dorothy landing in Oz as our plane safely touched down at the Ottawa airport. It did so, despite my grandfather Gerald’s prophetic warnings that we might be blown to smithereens by a terrorist’s bomb while still in mid air! – the seventies was a time of air terrorism which scared many travellers. When we landed, the first thing I wanted do was to kiss the ground!
Besides my father’s relatives who were waiting for us, the very first person I remember seeing at the airport was a real “red Indian”. When I saw him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was not an Indian like us, but the kind my grandfather told us about – the ones he saw in Hollywood movies who painted their faces, rode bare back on horses and scalped settlers! This Indian, however, was nothing to fear; he had no horse, was dressed in a suit… he was a traveller just like us on a journey of his own. To this very day, I think it was most fitting to be greeted by him upon my arrival in Canada. His presence made me re-consider so many things later in my life about what it means to be an “Indian”. In fact being in Canada would turn around many of the silly notions grown-ups had told me about the place.
Another thing that shook up my vision of Canada was the lack of snow. Where was it I wondered?! I carefully scanned the horizon and runway as we landed and, to my absolute dismay, saw none! I soon learned snow comes to Canada mainly (with some exceptions) in December and not October. I would have to wait for winter. Imaging it rose to the heavens and swallowed cities whole, I never realized snow had a frosty, flakey appearance or was icy, wet to the touch – initially I thought it was just millions of cotton balls falling from the sky! Even still I enjoyed the fall season. I began school and made new friends; I enjoyed the golden glow of autumn leaves which I collected and preserved between ironed sheets of wax paper. I fell in love with the smell of chimney smoke as it spiralled through the air, and for the first time, I felt the cold weather chill me to the bone. I enjoyed the sweet, tangy taste of candy apples and delighted in the lightly spiced aroma of pumpkin pie… it was exciting to be immersed in such an exotic world!… like Dorothy in the land of Oz I’ve made many good friends here, faced a great and powerful wizard as well as many villainous foes …and even longed to go back “home”… only to discover home is a place I carry in my heart and soul.
And you, my dear reader, what kind of images and memories does fall conjure call up for you? Do you live in a place where the trees change colour? Or is it another season entirely? How have the seasonal changes melded with your life experiences? What are your autumn memories: its sights, sounds, tastes, smells and textures? Perhaps you’ll make time this weekend to jot some down or create a quick collage about them in your visual journal. Happy Thanksgiving to my Canadian readers! It’s been a pretty decent long weekend weather-wise for us.
Journaling Workshop Coming Up Soon!
Speaking of visual journaling… don’t forget the deadline for registering for my collage journaling workshop is October 13, 2012. If you’re interested in taking it, there’s still room! I look forward to hearing from you. Please see my Workshops Page for more details.
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