It is another gorgeous and breezy October day here in Prince Edward Island. Our Autumns usually begin about the third week of August: the evenings turn cool while fine days are punctuated with ocean storms. An early tilt to Fall makes for a heart-breakingly short Summer for Islanders–and for visitors from around the world who want to see our fair province, the Land of Anne, the Garden of the Gulf, Birthplace of Confederation, Epekwitk, a land cradled in the waves, Abegweit, land of the red soil.

It’s true, we do have brilliant summers. But if you can handle some dynamic weather, the autumnal hues, quiet shops, local restaurants, long hiking trails, and cool nights make PEI a great Fall destination. Often enough, we have what I call a Garden Gate Summer, with a week or so of warm temperatures and white-cloudy blue skies, occasionally interrupted by a bright sun shower.

And then there are Octobers! With apples ready for picking and leaves bursting into flame-light, an October drive down our red-clay roads or hike in our creek-side trails is a brilliant experience.

It is no wonder that Anne Shirley, alive with wonder at the beauty and love of her newfound Green Gables home, cannot help but leave us with an exclamation for the ages:

October was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned themselves in aftermaths.

Anne revelled in the world of colour about her.

“Oh, Marilla,” she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in with her arms full of gorgeous boughs, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it? Look at these maple branches. Don’t they give you a thrill—several thrills? I’m going to decorate my room with them.”

“Messy things,” said Marilla, whose aesthetic sense was not noticeably developed. “You clutter up your room entirely too much with out-of-doors stuff, Anne. Bedrooms were made to sleep in.”

“Oh, and dream in too, Marilla. And you know one can dream so much better in a room where there are pretty things. I’m going to put these boughs in the old blue jug and set them on my table” (Anne of Green Gables, ch. 16).

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers,” Anne cries out, thrilled with her world. I am glad, too, and wanted to wish you the best this month, dear reader.

This has also been an Anneishly splendid October as I am teaching a SPACE class on Reading Anne of Green Gables as Fantasy.  It is an idea that I have wanted to test, rereading the iconic Anne of Green Gables as if it were a fantasy book rather than as realistic youth fiction (as it has traditionally been sold). I am using literary theory from fantasy, science fiction, fairy tale, and myth studies to see how we can meaningfully read this classic tale in new ways. The class is full of bright, eager students from around the world, and it is fun to see the text dance in our imaginations like Anne does. 

It also has been an unusual October for teaching online. Usually, I schedule classes so that I am always at my desk: good camera and microphone, okay lighting, super great Internet, all my books around me…. it’s the ideal teaching pod. In the first 6 classes of this month, however, I was in 5 different locations and had to reschedule one class. The rescheduled evening was because I was attending a solo concert by Canadian folk-rock legend Bruce Cockburn. Almost a patriotic duty and spiritual requirement for me to go. I have been waiting to see him since I was a teenager. 

Of the first 5 classes, one was at home in my teaching space. The others were in an alumni room at Acadia University (after a lecture by Dr. Willie James Jennings), a north shore PEI cabin (writing retreat), the garret of a north shore PEI restaurant, once the mill my family used for milling grain (faculty dinner), and in the house of L.M. Montgomery’s grandfather, a famous Canadian Senator, which was being built as Montgomery was little and is the model for the “Ingleside” house in the later Anne books (as part of a media event with Montgomery colleagues). 

Perhaps that’s the thing about Octobers here. When October begins, the trees are green with splashes of yellow and the occasional glimpse of red. By All Hallows’ Eve, the trees are largely stark and bare, with bright white birch bark that shines out of the wilds and reflects the setting sun in oranges and reds. Octobers are unpredictable, with loveliness, wildness, and brisk winds that take our breath away. I was probably tempting PEI fate to dare to follow Anne in October.

I have enjoyed two of the major Anne film projects: the Kevin Sullivan Anne miniseries of the mid-1980s, starring Megan Follows (who I admit is still kind of “Anne” in my imagination), and the CBC-Netflix Anne With an E serial. So I am disappointed that I cannot recall the above Anne quote on screen so that I could share it with you all. I suppose that leaves an opportunity for the next adaptation in the years ahead. But both films have some lovely autumnal scenery, some of which is set in Prince Edward Island. Meanwhile, Happy October! And I hope you enjoy a bit of visually Octoberish PEI–first some pictures I took at the UPEI campus, and then from someone on YouTube who is able to fly.