The colors seem especially brilliant this year with all the rain and overcast skies.
More so than any season, in October I feel I’m like going out into a new landscape every morning.
I find that I want to spend as much time as I can outside, even in the rain.
I want to tell you about reaching up
into the apple tree
to pick a wild apple,
when a shower came down from the leaves
and a drop fell on the corner of my right eye
and rolled down my face —
a single tear.
in the sage
after nighttime revelations,
headaches and sick toddlers,
rain for days,
cold and wet and lovely
so many gifts outside
beckoning us to come
“You make it too easy”
Should I reject “too easy,” I ask;
should I stay inside, withholding,
rather than walk into the wet, wild world
calling with rain?
One of my children doesn’t love to be photographed right now, and I am trying my best to respect that but sometimes I just can’t help myself.
Bringing in the house plants that spent the summer outside; wondering at how much they’ve grown; getting soil all over the kitchen table and floor and counter . . .
The greenhouse seed babies are thriving and this little man has been busy making a mud pit full of “hot cocoa” just outside the door. I’m thinning and he’s brewing; so come on over for some cool microgreens and warm drinks! I love gardening in this giant terrarium on the cusp of autumn. It’s such a paradox to watch new life burst forth as everything else outside slows down and lets go.
I wished I had brought my Nikon camera. My old Olympus just doesn’t do well in low light. And yet, it was dark in there, in the evening, in the swamp. So, there is something about this photo that feels especially true.
For those moments when I am outside
and want to remove the lid,
and enter in
I cannot quite fit.