For me – still stirring in the sensation of summer –
This prompts a shift.
I, bee humming along in the hive for a honey harvest.
The hustle demands our full attention.
Days slip by; I am obliged.
Here and now is my opportunity to allow.
Just sit. Ah, the monotony.
Patience presses in as we enter the Oracles of October & onward…
The day is shortening. Now it is November.
Hallow’s Eve hath past, that tricky dance with death
And one of the year’s Four Gates.
She, late summer heat
September sows golden wheat
Virgin Bread Maker
I close my eyes – sweetness flickers – as it fades.
Between us – oh love, I coo
blowing, sowing, saving seed
delightful deed: dead-heading a plant
expired fruit gets the boot
bring new blooms!
all coming down now soon,
I take such a delight in you!
This afternoon the sun & moon see-saw the same sky.
First half of a Harvest Moon cooly cruises
From over the southern ridge,
As the heat of day dissolves
Down the hill, with the sun – westward.
Trickling through like water,
Trees drop their fruit.
All in a set, the preserving bustle begins: a snack pack squirrel act!
Dehydrating, canning… Grape juice in the root cellar with sauce…
Garlic, onion, potato, pesto… and kiwi!
Always putting away, something to find next time
In the cold – snow, maybe.
Pond o’clock is dried up.
It’s now past sun setting; cool comes in with the shade.
When everyone has gone (to seed),
We MAKE THE BEDS! Compost
Coming by the barrow full.
Four inches of nutritive insulation
Tucks them in; massage the soil!
I am EMBEDDED in my loving labor.
My sheets are SOILED: full of the garden! As am I.
At home here:
Connected through basic rhythms coursing through
That is the universe.
We are stardust.