Letter from November

Dear friend,

November has its tail in bright autumn leaves and nose buried in pure white snow. It’s bones are bare branches, and body – made out of fog, dusk and grey clouds. It’s a month of souls in Latvian culture similar to other places in the world. Starting with All Saint’s Day, when the door to the other side stays open, as Latvians used to believe (and even left food on the table for ghosts to feed), and ending on November 28. Today, on the last November Sunday, we remember the passed ones who are dear to us. This afternoon I put a fat white candle on a flowery saucer, once used by my late grandma when special guests came, and lit it with a matchstick. I didn’t suspect eerie guests, don’t get me wrong, and yet when I lit the light, David Bowie started to sing in the radio by a lovely coincidence. November is the final month of autumn. The photo above was taken this morning by the river Lielupe. Winter has arrived.

This quiet month of ghosts was embroidered with little celebrations. I finished a course at the National Library of Latvia, where I learned about how to be more useful for the community as a library, and Nemo finished his puppy school. We also received the long-awaited e-mail, that we have been admitted to canistherapy school, taught by a teacher who 15 years ago brought canistherapy to Latvia and is also one of the few people here who can teach dogs to be guards on water. Next week will be our third lesson. No need to count them, as it will take at least half a year to learn the basics of trade, and it’s up to Nemo if he will enjoy to be a canistherapy dog. We are ten in the course, an architect, a doctor, a film director, a teacher, a speech therapist, another librarian and others. A bright bunch of dog lovers with a drive to help. Some are planning to learn the therapy side and help those in need, some – will visit nursing homes, schools. I’ve heard stories about dogs at prison libraries. I am still thinking and watching Nemo, what does he like. And watching myself and the Sea Library. I have inspiring ideas bubbling on my mind, and I’ve learned in the first three lessons the freedom to discover you own unique road. Retired captains might be involved in the plan and stories about the sea, but let’s see, let’s see. Books about dogs are piling up next to books about sea.

What did you read this month? I’ll publish two reviews in the upcoming days to tell you what I’ve read, but one book is still in my bag wherever I go. I’m reading “Floating Gold” by Christopher Kemp and enjoying the fun way he writes and also that so little is known about ambergis. The unknown, the mysterious and unsolved turns me on. One of many reasons why I can’t imagine my life without the huge and largely unexplored sea. I also love how much sniffing is involved in this book. With Nemo by my side I feel how I change, how much I learn from his wondrous body. There’s a quote I read while on the train the other day and underlined it heavily while smiling widely. A symbolic motto of my life right now: “I tell people that they’ve got to sniff a lot of dog droppings before they find a bit of ambergis.”

November has been full of surprises. First of all, first snow always comes as a surprise. It’s an adorable aspect of human nature – to swim through all four seasons each year with a continuous renewal and awe. A slice of rainbow above the river with no rain in sight. Moon throwing a snake of dancing diamonds on the dark water. A bright sunrise burning like fire on the first thin ice. I’ve lived here for eleven years. Yet each walk is a passport to a new land of views I’ve never seen before. No two mornings alike. No two evenings making a pair.

There was a surprise in my mailbox as well – a few days ago I was invited by a big publisher to write a preface for a great book about the sea. I closed my eyes at that very moment, put my arm on the heart and said to myself: you are doing great, Anna. The tiny Sea Library is visible from afar like a lighthouse, however foggy the weather is, however bumpy the ride. The world is round. What you do is meaningful to the community of sea lovers. Say yes.

I didn’t buy too many books this month to save some money for an important annual gift for the Sea Library. Each winter I try to buy one Lego ship for the young visitors to play with. Yesterday we brought home an Arctic Explorer Ship and my youngest son put it together while the first blizzard was doing everything it could to bring Arctic to the Sea Library. And I noticed a book I would like to add: “Sailing Alone: A History” by Richard J. King came out in September. I enjoyed his other book “Ahab’s Rolling Sea: A Natural History of Moby-Dick” (2019) which I have at the Sea Library if you want to read it.

December, the last month of this year, is just around the corner. I try not to expect anything from it, except postcards and ginger bread cookies (and I hope to get plenty of both). I want to finish with a thought I read in a book about dogs: for them, running around free is like dancing – being one with the Universe. What gives you this same dizzying freedom and energy and sense that you are who you are supposed to be?

For me it is being right by the sea – right next to the ones I love.

Anna x