The Peepers Said Farewell

Back in Nova Scotia there are these little guys we call peeper frogs, they come out around sunset and well they peep. They are a summer and spring staple of the Nova Scotia soundtrack. I had yet to hear much of them this year, they had just begun. I left, what I will now probably refer to as my old house, at around 2am in the morning to catch my first of three flights. And by some happenstance I’ll call the love of God I heard the peeper frogs peep me a farewell. 

I left the home I’ve known for the last 15 years and it was no small choice. But it was a choice and I made it stone cold sober and wide awake. I knew what I was getting into when I chose this adventure. But I didn’t expect the frogs of all things to be what made it feel real. Made it feel cemented. 

In the months, years, leading up to this grande change and adventure people would ask me why I was moving. There was seldom a time I could give them a straight answer. Even now as I sit on the opposite coast to the one I’ve always known, I still don’t know if I could give an untangled answer to why I felt the need to go. It can be awkward and un-comfy but staying would have felt like lying, like settling for what I didn’t really want. And it can be harsh to hear for those I moved away from, and to you I’m sorry it wasn’t for a lack of love. 

Its a chore and necessity to remind myself it wasn’t for a lack of love, wasn’t for bitterness or anger. Truly it boils down to the fact that I wanted to live in the country I was born in. Its been 15 years since after all and a part of my heart needed the rest of it. It’s similar to the love flowing in two different directions and doing my best to be faithful to both as best I can. 

The peeper frogs said farewell, because it wasn’t a goodbye, it was a farewell. A, wish you well on your journey. A, I’ll see you when you come back. A, it’s okay to leave we’ll see you when you visit. Because ‘goodbye’ wasn’t a strong or honest enough word for what was happening. 

It was like leaving out the back as the party winds down. Not wanting to cause a fuss because people are still visiting, but I’m ready to leave, ready to go on home and get some rest. So I left out the back, waved to those who wouldn’t shout at my departure and walked myself on home. It was an ending that didn’t feel all the much like an end, just a leaving. 

Feels odd, I think. Its hard to tell. To have moved and yet still be stood still. Because really, I choose this and it is hard to not feel the gravity of this choice. To feel just how much this could change for my life, for my legacy. Who wouldn’t feel awed at the prospect. I would be fine, happy even, living a small quiet simple life, yet I’ve once again chosen adventure in contrast to my disposition. 

It is an odd thing, and I can imagine I will be an odd creature for at least a year to come. I quite frankly find myself odd on the best of days, so I’m sure it’s easy to see just how much more I may become.

It wasn’t for a lack of love, from me or to me. Sometimes the river runs dry, and sometimes the sky turns grey, and sometimes it is simply time to see other sights. The peepers peeped me a farewell and it may just become my favourite piece of this closing chapter. They were one of the bright spots in the face of all those rough changes 15 years ago, now they were a sweet permission to go onto and into the next. 

Because I found peace in a place I did not think I would survive. I found hope in the place I lost it. And I found purpose in a place I longed to leave. It is an odd thing to be born to two countries and three cultures, weirder still to have lived them all separately. I think I will try to find the melting pot within, see what I can make of this gift I’ve been given. 

Here’s to the adventure and the starting points, the returning and discovering, to the new dreams and old aches soothed, it is a good life. And I intend to live as much of it as I possible can.