A beautiful cold morning! The sky so clear you marvel at it, and so sunny it makes you smile to see things so clearly! The wind has torn green flags of leaves from the trees, not only single leaves but clumps of them as well. The birds are out this morning and while Mikayla and I were out we saw the biggest crow fly along the trees and land, its dark silhouette against the bright sky. The striped cat has returned, wandering the back yard as if he were lost, finally sitting at the foot of my heron statue, which in the strong sunlight this morning is almost white, the shadows of its feathers outlines of dark against the bleached out clay. Quieter now, the wind has slowed like someone breathing into sleep, only an occasional snore marking an intense gust. The stalks of cane lie mostly bent and getting browner, a jumble of lashing leaves and thin bodies, stirring sleepily. Each tree addresses the wind in its own language, stately bows, head tossing, flickering like fire, embracing it, or resisting it. Pines seem to embrace the wind their long furred arms slowly opening and closing, while the maple resists, its flat leaves taking the brunt of it, fluttering and fussing but the branches barely moving.
And the blessing . . . one for the season . . .
Autumn Day
Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.
Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander on the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.
Rainer Maria Rilke
The huge summer has left us, and the wind is passing through to some other country, sometimes more that we could want or need. This week it will be cool but next week back to summer again. Here, autumn slides in and out until it's spring, such mild winters as we have you might think of them as one long fall. The trees take so long to go bare and then almost immediately leaf out again. I'm not sure about whoever has no house won't have one, it could be the cold will be an incentive both for work and for gifts of shelter. But the alone can always be fixed, if it needs to be. It sounds like alone can have its place, time to think, to write, to engage the restless feeling this season brings with it. Farmers are probably glad here there is very little time of frost to damage or kill their crops, so they can be left to their fulfillment. The changing light overlaps the trees now at different times, bringing the shadow earlier and from a different angle, the changes a blessing to keep us interested in what we see, in the world around us.
This week someone sent me a reminder to enjoy the little beauties, and I am enjoying them this morning, and also keeping in mind gratitude for all the blessings in my life, large and small. Even the restlessness I sometimes feel is only a different way of experiencing the world, or perhaps the desire to experience more of the world, yet what more could I want than what I already have. I write long letters to friends and family, teach young people to have confidence in their own choices, and to see the world in a different way if only for a little while, read whatever I want, so much is available, do daily work for love, and am surrounded by that love. Sunday is a day to remember all of that and rejoice!
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