OCTOBER 25, 2025 – When you spend lots of time outdoors, especially at the beginning and end of the day, you become attuned to the tilt of Earth’s axis and its effect on the duration and intensity of sun-generated heat and light. At this time of year, especially in more northern latitudes, you become acutely aware of the shrinking sunlight at both ends of the day. Moreover, if you’re on the north or south shore of a large lake, giving broad views of the sunrise and sunset, you notice by this time how the sun rises and sets much farther south than it does at high summer. As this occurs and the days shorten, you know that all too soon the wind will blow—mostly from the north, bringing colder temps and . . . snow.
If you’re working on any outdoor projects, as I have been since June, you know that the clock is ticking. What you can’t finish now will probably have to wait until next spring.
In the case of my Pergola-on-a-Platform project, I was racing to finish as much as I could before wintry weather arrived. This afternoon I attached the last rails on the back staircase of the structure. Except for “shelves” to be cut and attached across the tops of the platform railings and four cosmetic pieces on front and back, the Pergola-on-a-Platform is functionally finished.
To celebrate the occasion, a large crowd assembled for a ribbon-cutting ceremony. Nearly every royal subject of the realm was on hand, called to the site by a legion of heralds, bright banners hanging from their heraldic trumpets as rich chords filled the fresh autumn air. Stretching a hundred feet north and south of the construction site were rows of tables laden with countless bottles of wine and pitchers of ale, roast pigs, game hens, turkeys, exotic fruits, breads, pies, and pastries. Notables from near and far, even royalty from other realms were in attendance, this being the most important event since the current king’s coronation.
Well . . . okay . . . I got a little carried away with my description. Gathered for the hastily arranged affair were two young kids and five older adults, including the builder, the builder’s grandchildren, younger son and younger son’s longest friend (since first grade), older sister, and brother-in-law. The builder’s spouse was back at the Red Cabin holding down the fort, since her back and knee were not keen on negotiating the trail to Pergola Point at the summit of Mt. Orray.
The ribbon was actually a set of two—red and white—in keeping with the color scheme of the Pergola-on-a-Platform. Once these were attached, Grandchild No. 1 was handed a pair of scissors and given instruction on how to perform her ceremonial duty. In the last moment I informed her that she had to give a brief speech before the cutting.
“What do I say for a speech?” she asked.
“Whatever you want to say—as you say it,” I said.
Her uncle then intervened and gave her a simple line to recite: “I hereby announce that the pergola is now open to everyone.”
The ceremony went off without a hitch, though the scissors, which came out of the kitchen junk drawer, weren’t sharp enough to slice through the ribbons efficiently. But once Illiana had accomplished the task, the crowd cheered.
Illiana scampered up the steps to the platform, followed closely by her admiring two-year-old cousin. Smiling with the fast reclining sun, the two danced their respective versions of a jig, as everyone laughed and snapped photos of the two.
After more scampering up and down the steps and many more photos, Illiana struck a pensive look and asked me, “Will the pergola still be here for another three generations?”
“I certainly hope so,” I said. I was pleasantly surprised by her long-term perspective and delighted by her additional comments expressing how much she liked the structure. If her cousin isn’t yet old enough to remember the occasion, I like to think that the event—in conjunction with the whole weekend—will in its way, help secure the cousins’ bond to each other and to Björnholm and the Red Cabin. I facilitated this goal by having Illiana—and everyone else on hand—decorate the pergola platform with their signatures over today’s date.
Eventually, Byron and the kids took their leave of the place and descended back down to the lakeshore path that would lead them back to the Red Cabin. My sister Elsa and brother-in-law Chuck and Byron’s friend Kumar and I lingered a while longer, admiring the spectacular view of the sun, now near the horizon, beaming its bright smile through the woods, lighting up the last bright hues of the season. None of us wanted to leave the scene, but as the world turned, we knew that darkness would soon be upon us. It was time to leave the pergola behind standing guard over Björnholm Trädgården.
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© 2025 by Eric Nilsson
