(no subject)
This morning the train platform was covered with sugary frost. It is the first that I have noticed for the year. Upon smiling at its Fae glitter, I felt something shift in me as though a whisper slid by my ear; a soft “it’s coming”.
Later I walked over to the Farmer’s Market…the final one of the season. I feel sad to see them go, but also proud that I’ve visited the market every week (unless out of town) and that almost all of our produce has come from local, independent farmers. Also, I could not feel anything but joy there at the colors, smells and curves of harvest; the red, orange, golden roundness of gratitude and bounty. A canvas bag on my desk bulges with Honey Crisp apples from Michigan, with Illinois ruby sweet potatoes, butternut squash and grape tomatoes (my sweet madeleines of summer) and I feel blessed.
Subtle strains of autumn’s swan song are floating with me. I’ve been savoring fall’s more youthful aspects: those early vivid leaves, the crisp air balanced by the kiss of sun on one’s face and the tastes of cinnamon, apples and root vegetables. Today though I truly feel the hint of winter: the susurrant voices of dry leaves that skitter past quick feet, the clack of bare branches that reach for the moon, the warm puff and mist of my breath against the air.
Today I wear a silence on my skin, I feel Scorpio, Ana and Arrdu, Freya in her battle gear…but I do not feel fear or sadness. I feel gratitude for life and for the divine within and without. I am remembering my ancestors with love and longing.
I feel change coming, and I’m excited for it.
Later I walked over to the Farmer’s Market…the final one of the season. I feel sad to see them go, but also proud that I’ve visited the market every week (unless out of town) and that almost all of our produce has come from local, independent farmers. Also, I could not feel anything but joy there at the colors, smells and curves of harvest; the red, orange, golden roundness of gratitude and bounty. A canvas bag on my desk bulges with Honey Crisp apples from Michigan, with Illinois ruby sweet potatoes, butternut squash and grape tomatoes (my sweet madeleines of summer) and I feel blessed.
Subtle strains of autumn’s swan song are floating with me. I’ve been savoring fall’s more youthful aspects: those early vivid leaves, the crisp air balanced by the kiss of sun on one’s face and the tastes of cinnamon, apples and root vegetables. Today though I truly feel the hint of winter: the susurrant voices of dry leaves that skitter past quick feet, the clack of bare branches that reach for the moon, the warm puff and mist of my breath against the air.
Today I wear a silence on my skin, I feel Scorpio, Ana and Arrdu, Freya in her battle gear…but I do not feel fear or sadness. I feel gratitude for life and for the divine within and without. I am remembering my ancestors with love and longing.
I feel change coming, and I’m excited for it.