It is November, but the day is warm. My mom has taken the girls for the afternoon, and I am free to wander the world at leisure. Alone. These quiet hours spent walking through woods and meadows refresh and recharge me.
Many of the trees have already cloaked the earth with their canopies. Their stark branches scratch the blue sky. In the meadow, the milkweed has burst open, releasing seed clouds into the wind. Late-season raspberries ripen on thorny branches, and the goldenrod is fringed with white.
A grey squirrel rustles in the leaves, busily gathering nuts—a portent of the days to come. He swears at me as I pass by, angry at the interruption. Further down the path, a fallen nest lies abandoned in the grass. Its owners have no need of it anymore. Their young have long flown away.
I love the autumn, despite the fact that it precedes the grey days of winter. It is the end of the season, yes. But spring will one day come, and life will flow again. Even in death, there can be beauty and hope.
Every ending holds the promise of a new beginning.
So I savour the moment.
I love all things fall, don’t you? Yesterday was officially the first day of autumn, but clearly it didn’t get the memo because it actually arrived rather suddenly today. It was a gazillion degrees yesterday, so I was woefully unprepared for today’s sweater and boots weather. My poor little daughters and I were at our local fall fair in our summer clothes, watching the Mounties prance around on their majestic horses … and shivering away.
Oh Canada. I love you.
Hours later, and I’m wrapped up in blankets, sipping maple-flavoured coffee and still trying to get warm as I sit here and write. (A tad dramatic. But true.)
It was always my goal to write daily, but I’ve…ahem…not exactly done that (although, if you regularly follow this rather sporadic blog, you already knew that). Consistency doesn’t always come naturally to me, but I want to be known as someone who is—yes, flexible—but also dependable and faithful. It’s something I need to work on. Even in the little things. Even if things aren’t perfect.
Even if there’s nothing very important to say.
So I’m going to try.
It might be a photo. It might be a thought. It might be a video of Mounties prancing on horses. But I’m going to try to put something on here at least once a week. (Notice that I said try. It’s not a hard, fast commitment. I like loopholes.)
Because I’m already almost over the standard 400-word blog limit (because who has time to sit at their computer and read a novel?), today’s deep and meaningful thoughts will have to wait until tomorrow.
So stay tuned…
(In the meantime, here are some cellphone photos of the fair. Because autumn. You’re welcome.)
And here’s a photo of maple coffee. Because Canada.