Season number 3 in this northern clime arrives with greying skies and shortening days. The summer closes and autumn begins - celebrated with "Harvest Festivals". The flood of fresh vegetables and produce is peaking in the markets . . ..
. . . and is matched with a flood of seasonal shoppers - often buying in bulk for canning of preserves for the winter, a tradition that is becoming popular again.
In town, somewhere in Ontario, a rough pioneer spirit awakes with the chill to revive the strength and courage which, in the last century, broke the giant hardwoods, drained the swamps, and opened this land for settlement. The ancient mechanical grain combines have been saved and are put back into action to show the method used to harvest grain at a time still in the living memory.
In a yearly demonstration of social vitality the primeval fury of lawn mower owners is awakened to shred wimpish Fabian sympathies like so much limp grass blades.
In this race, only 5 people were injured when a racing lawn-mower hurtled out o ff the track and into the crowd - a good year!
In the main street a wrestling spectacle feeds the fantasies of those who would be covered with tattoos and pounding others into submission - the eternal dream of Scottish immigrant men still routinely cowered by their Scottish wives.
As the sunsets, the streets are opened and the distinctive early autumn glow of a low sun shining through clear air lightens up the leaves - which shall soon be turning into colours as bright as the spirits of the people of this small town.
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