A high wind has sprung up on this day that used to be known as Columbus Day but is now also known as Indigenous People’s Day. It started yesterday, this wind, and though it’s stirring the leaves that have already fallen from the poplar and the witch hazel, it isn’t, as far as I know, leading to any rain.

When the big gusts come, they blow aside the bamboo that now nearly obscures my view of the black gum tree. Black gum leaves can put on quite a show in late October, so I’m happy for this glimpse of them, for their phosphorescence and their beauty.

Mostly I’m thinking about this country, on this day three weeks and a day away from a contentious election. I’m thinking about how divided we are, a division that is implied in the two names we have for this day.

Who owns this country? It’s a question I hope we never stop asking.