Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Sweet Surrender

Autumn is definitely settling in and all too quickly heading into the cool of coming winter. I'm still hoping for Indian summer, those magical days of soft sunlight and warm breezes, that last hurrah after first freeze, but before the snow arrives.

The neighbors came over this past Saturday morning bearing good news. They had found an inexpensive source of straw bales. They had several in his truck. We split them up and unloaded, a few close to my septic line, which I am planning to cover just to be on the safe side, the others went into the shed next to the garden until I decide whether to mulch yet this fall or wait until spring. They give me a feeling of security, like an essential part of this chosen life has fallen into place. It's a small thing, but that's where contentment usually lies. I placed my gourds on top of three for looks and for necessity. They need a bit more sunshine, a ripening into something I can yet use for carving after they have dried. Nights are remaining just warm enough to make it possible.

The trees lining my driveway are showing their colors. It makes me feel good every time I pass by them. There are several red and gold-leafed trees outside my window; a blanket of leaves is forming below. I am trying to stay ahead of the melancholy that seems to be nipping at my heels, as I re-learn the same lesson that every autumn brings with it: to see this as a natural part of life and to simply go with the flow. Resistance brings unnecessary struggle. A surrendering to life's natural movement brings peace.

There is a part of me that is actually looking forward to the winter, hunkering down, using it as an opportunity to write and Be. I know I will have to guard against my tendency to become cloistered. I am practicing being of the world, but unmoved by its political and cultural machinations. There are certainly plenty of opportunities for practice.

Today, I'm heading out to find an area rug for under my table and a tablecloth to cover the glass top. I have a need to soften my surroundings and this would be a nice way to do it. I'm thinking a deep plum rug to accompany my sage green sectional. We'll see what shows up.

For my friends on the other side of the world, Happy Spring!  I find it comforting. Somewhere life is just opening up.

Here is Louis Armstrong singing one of my favorite songs, "What a Wonderful World," accompanied by some beautiful photographs. Every time I see a photograph of Delicate Arch I remember sitting under it with my son, Coleman, one late winter afternoon. It is a wonderful world:


The photographs are mine.


  1. That's a good hunch on the hay bales covering your septic line. I hear from my farmer neighbor that the Almanac is predicting a very cold winter. She says she is seeing more than the normal amount of furry caterpillars as a good indicator.
    I like your words "resistance brings unnecessary struggle" and will try to remember this.
    I too am unmoved by the world's political and cultural machinations.
    You write so beautifully....I look forward to the winter with you.

  2. This is my first visit to your blog. I love all of your photos especially the autumn colours of the trees and gourds. I think each season of the year is wonderful; I made my mind up last winter to accept each day for itself and as a result I loved winter. Right now it's spring here in NZ so I am in love all over again.
    Loved the video clip.

  3. Beautiful pictures. I love fall so much!

  4. The bales of hay are as autumn as it gets...perfect! But the photo of your driveway spoke volumes...time to squeeze in a little trip...hugs!

  5. It's a-com'n. Gorgeous pictures that shout it out in color. Your trees are turning ........ beautifully. Cover it up. Praise the Lord and pass the hay bails!
    Satchmo. A grateful song. I remember dancing to him years ago at Buster's in downtown Mpls. Those were the days. Watching him blow that horn and wiping sweat off his face with an enormous white hanky. Fun :)
    Hope you find your rug. That's what I should be shopping for too, since I gave half my furniture to the church garage sale. I can hear an echo in the living room.

  6. MG: I am grateful for your kind words about my writing. the winter will bring new perspectives, new stories to share. I Really like where you said, "my farmer neighbor...She says..." I love that many farmers are women and there are even magazines devoted to it.

    Marilyn: I'm glad you visited my blog. Thank you for commenting. Yes, "accept each day for itself." Thank You!

    Kathy: I love fall, too. Congratulations to your Tresa and her family. A new little Life. How wonderful!

    Kittie": I am thinking of a road trip, a way to recharge before the next phase. I had a dream around this last night....

    Manzanita: Buster's in downtown Mpls. Sounds like such a fun memory. You have some stories to tell! :) Yes, I gave away so much when I left Santa Fe. I'm trying to be cautious about what I replace. No plum colored rug yet, but I'm going to keep my mind open. We shall see...