This evening the crows gathered, with the moon almost full.
The weather has been warm, not typical November weather. I love the feel and smell of autumn, so I’m happy with this warm sunny spell.
The crows put me in mind of The Dark is Rising (Susan Cooper). Crows as harbingers. There is a sense of stillness, of waiting.
Again my life is filled with a series of ER and doctor visits. The most recent was for my mother’s fall. Life is such a mixture of beauty and pain.
Many of the leaves on the trees have not yet turned color and fallen, yet last evening was our first snow of the season. The photos below were taken around my home and studio in the early morning light.
The echinacea plants are wearing tall, snowy caps.
The yew bushes simply bend.
A view from my studio window. Snow was sifting down in the early sunshine, giving the air a dreamy quality.
A few minutes later, the sky was intensely blue.
Now, in the early afternoon, the snow is melting away.
Transitory pleasures, but certain to be repeated. This is just the beginning!
Last night we attended a nearby annual event, Barnstorm, which included live music, dancing, food, a pumpkin-carving contest, and conversation.
Women in the window! There were windows on all four sides of the second floor of this marvelous old barn.
The interior of the second floor was home to the festivities. The small loft above was used decoratively.
The stage, ready for a variety of musical acts.
Three women, three paper lanterns ~ waiting for the music to begin.
A musical beginning. The show was opened with a lively guitar and ukulele number.
More music ~ Em and Kate
Some of the entries in the pumpkin-carving contest.
A Jack o Lantern with quite the nose.
Goodnight, Barnstorm! We left early and missed many musical acts, dancing, and the pumpkin judging. Several people brought tents, which were pitched outside the barn for those wanting to sleep over. I opted for my cozy bed at home.
It has begun.
Flowers go to seed,
and autumn flowers blossom.
Sometimes, usually when we least expect it, an event happens ~ after which life is never quite the same again. There have been no posts from me for quite some time, as I learn and feel my way into new ways of living after experiencing a health crisis. Slowly, deliberately, over the past few months I’ve been regaining my strength, noticing the little things ~ and coming to terms with the unpredictability of living. We can never know what will happen tomorrow, or even in the next few moments. On some level, we all know this, but for me it has become a lived reality.
Photo by Seth Rockmuller
As a result, I’m not certain which direction this blog will follow. What shall I release? What shall I continue? As the leaves begin to drift down from the trees, autumn seems an appropriate time to sweep away the unessential. Samhain will soon arrive, heralding a new year, a new cycle. Its meaning will be deeper for me this year, as I welcome my ancestors into conversation, and walk on the wild side.
To segue from the Halloween posts, here are the pumpkins on the compost heap, surrounded by a dusting of our first snow of the season.
We enjoyed a cozy cuppa in Ralph’s Café, with fat flakes filling the air outside the window.
And so it begins.
Given today’s weather, it’s odd to think that just yesterday Seth took this photo of his shadow in the late afternoon sunshine.
Scenes from this small-town life.
This evening the Barnum and Bailey circus train rolled slowly through town.
Over the weekend,
the alpaca grazed in autumn pastures, while
The Kline Kill, with K. at play
the Kline Kill beckoned under golden sycamores.
And this afternoon,
The barn, with fresh paint.
the painting of the barn was completed.
Life is good.
(All photos by Seth Rockmuller.)