We’re in that strange part of every season, where one season is slowly slipping in to the next. Our days are starting to feel more autumnal. The mornings are cooler, followed by rainy afternoons and the leaves are beginning to metamorphose into brilliant shades of crimson red, gold and tangerine orange. The shadows are transforming too and the quality of the light is altering. It’s getting darker sooner. Gone are our summer nights of light till almost 10pm. I’m okay with that, I welcome new seasons with open arms. But, right now I feel stuck in the space in-between.
I see my woods change every day as I walk through them. I use them as my seasonal barometer. There are bales of hay in all the fields, slowly drying out. The air smells different. As refreshing as I find it, moving from one space into the next, this space in-between is making me antsy lately. After a few cool days here and there, I’m ready for sweater weather, for hot chocolate nights and pumpkins everywhere. I’m not ready to have two days of being bundled up and then back to shorts and t-shirts and then back to being bundled up again.
Maybe it’s where I am personally right now. I’m ready for some major changes and we are working hard to make those goals happen. I’ve also teamed up with a marvellous woman on a project we are embarking on and we are slowly and surely finding our feet and picking the right route for us. I’m ready for the ball to roll a little faster. But life is going at the speed it is supposed to be for me right now and I have to accept that.
Autumn will come entirely into her glory when she is ready. I will simply have to take a page out of Mother Nature’s book and be patient. To just enjoy where I am right now, to enjoy this Indian Summer we are in. To look at this time as a renewal and a refresh before we fully move in to leaves crunching under foot, crispy apple scented air and the smell of wood fires permeating the world.
WOOOO-HOOOO! School’s out for summer!!! Here’s to early morning runs with the sunrise and staying up late till the stars come out, watching movies on the vintage projection screen. Here’s to eating pimento cheese sandwiches and potato chips for lunch and drinking sweet tea. Here’s to lazing about listening to music and reading books and playing board games. Here’s to hot summer days and cool summer evenings, to waffle cones stuffed with homemade ice-cream, to picnics and candlelight filled nights. To cooking new recipes and making old favourites. Here’s to just being, to catching our breaths, to make-out sessions on the couch. Here’s to summer sewing projects and art exhibitions and long strolls in the park and visiting the fair and eating our weight in funnel cakes. Here’s to adventure! Here’s to the summer, long may it last!
I’m longing for quiet lately. I was shopping for a birthday card for a friend last week and found the perfect card for my Nana. It was dirty, which she would have loved. She had a wicked sense of humour. I wandered around the store and was about to purchase my items when I realised, I can’t send her a card. I just stood there like an idiot for a moment before going to put the card back. I still can’t believe that she no longer exists within my world. We shared a lot with each other, but I still had so much more to learn and to experience through her eyes.
On my daily run, I always make a beeline for the woodland paths. I slow down to a walk there and watch the muntjacs (if I’m lucky to see them), or check on the baby coots and ducklings in the pond. One little muntjac in particular and I are slowly becoming friends. He occasionally watches me do yoga or peers out from the trees across the path, when I’m doing push-ups using the back of a park bench. He seems to seek me out. I find peace in watching him. I find peace in listening to the birds and watching the sun shine through the fern leaves. One of the many side paths has ferns that are taller than me. When the sun shines through them it is like being in a chapel made entirely of emerald green stained glass.
The moment I leave the woods the traffic rushes by, people push past you and there is just so much noise coming from every direction. I don’t want noise for a little while. I want to sit in a chair with my toes in the sand. I want to do my morning run along the beach, barefoot as the sun rises. I want to collect seashells, rinsing them off in the ocean before leaving them to dry on the porch railing. I want to make s’mores over a fire and slowly lick off the marshmallow goo from my lips.
I want to eat when I feel like eating, only see people if I want to, only talk to people if I want to. I want to take naps on a screened-in porch listening to the waves as I drift off. I don’t want to answer questions, or do laundry, or clean a house. I don’t want to hear noise other than the ocean beating against the shore one rolling wave at a time. Just for a little while, I just crave the delicious sound of silence.