October 19, 2019--Ocktoberfest at the Whitley Place
Given the weather, our potluck was for a while
hunkered around our farmhouse’s kitchen table spilling into the kitchen
passageways until the appetites were satisfied; the cold rains abated, or rather
metamorphosed into a light snow sufficient enough to permit the October Fire.
Having just done a presentation to the Idaho County Historical Society of Neolithic standing stones and circles in Scotland, the Ockoberfest scene around our table struck me as timeless. It is what we humans do, and have always done. Community gathering, sharing collective bounty, visiting family, friends, neighbors…and of course tales and stories, fellowship and joy.
Having just done a presentation to the Idaho County Historical Society of Neolithic standing stones and circles in Scotland, the Ockoberfest scene around our table struck me as timeless. It is what we humans do, and have always done. Community gathering, sharing collective bounty, visiting family, friends, neighbors…and of course tales and stories, fellowship and joy.
Since time immemorial, autumn is a reflection at the fore of
winter’s dark arrival. Ockoberfest fires
serve as celebratory reminders of our time on this planet. How it is consumed
and spent and why it is celebrated. This
is, and has always been, for as long as humankind has sought to seek it…ever
since fire first was controlled by our distant forebears. Ocktoberfest speaks to purpose, to the ephemeral
and yet also to the permanent.
Ocktoberfest is a dance with the seasons, a taking them by
the hand in customs so deeply imbedded in us they are primordial, beyond our ken
in the ancient and evermore. The Fest’s
fire is a leapfrogging over cold times that are neigh upon Idaho as Winter marches. We meet it upon the hallowed ground of
tradition in an ambitious celebration which looks backward to the giants, our
ancestors upon whose shoulders we stand. And yet it also looks forward to Spring’s resurrection, to its warmth and promise, to
an enlightenment of eternity and life itself.
Doubtless Idahoans are elsewhere dismissed as
“rednecks” or ruffians, an unbecoming ignorant breed of Americans. So be it. That denigration misses its mark wide; it prejudges the book by its cover.
Reading deeper, around our table and in our kitchen’s ways
and out to the pasture for the Ocktoberfest fire were gathered a diverse group of well-educated mostly young people, employed in
their fields of pursuit with earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees spanning a
wide spectrum of human knowledge…from medical and veterinary science to
community development, from advanced statistics to earth sciences and to IT. In other words, we are far from the stereotype which exaggerates underestimation. These may
be country folk. But they certainly are no hicks.
Too many today, no longer young, wring hands and despair at America’s fate being entrusted to this new generation. I do not. The book I read last night in the laughter and banter of these young Idahoans gathered at our farmstead gives me great confidence in our succeeding generation. They are prepared, if not confident, even in the face of a seemingly insurmountably troubled future. Yet, here they dance.
Tradition’s sinews run as strong in these young Idahoans as in
any other generation before them. Their
vision, its fine sharpness, reaches far beyond those who despair, those who refuse
to dance with them in the festive fires in their seasons and who thus cannot
fathom the nobility of compassion that is strong in these young Idahoans, so
strong it will be their generation’s calling card. Strong too their inherent respect (allowing the
wry irreverence of youth on occasion…just enough sass to keep an edge).
No. America’s future
is not nearly as dire as those who see only the sleets and snows, those who cannot
or will not see beyond; those who lack in faith, trust and indeed in humanity. Instead, I exclaim Selah! For we are blessed. Let us celebrate! To everything there is a season, a time and a
purpose under Heaven. Hallowed be Thy
name, oh Lord, hallowed be Thy name.
No comments:
Post a Comment