I'm
not missing summer, nor fall. I'm right here, with the freezing rain, the
impassable roads, the difficult coating of ice upon all that lives out there,
and the blessing of being a human able to be warm and fed and surrounded by
furred ones,
(albeit one young itchy bored furred one
minus a necessary walk),
as we finish up a Sunday when our
youngest was unable to come, after all, with his new beloved to meet us.
While my dear friend here got some vital
and new changes done on his class, in the coolest way.
While I got to rest and stretch and just
be in life, enabling my body to have all it needs to heal itself up a bit.
As the darkness falls, the skies once
again overcast and raining, the new moon hidden.
And I am thinking back to self-indulgent
warm-weather hardly-any-clothes-necessary
flip flops and early autumn;
to Kestrel Lane and the convenient
confines of a land, and a flat land at that,
to give that dog a daily walk, til I
discovered it was privately owned.
To the daily changes of the lands and the
fields and the brush and the small plants by the pathway;
to the minute changes that moved us slowly
from summer to autumn to where we are now,
snow covered and cold and all things
frozen.
It's in this moment I gaze at the
photograph and become transported back to that morning,
when the sun reflected small bursts of light from so far away it's
inconceivable:
onto
the lane's puddle, filled with rains from the night before-
and the leaves ,that morning before i even
awakened,were brushed by some indeterminate wind that came from who knows
where,
pulling them from their trees, as they
slowly drifted through space down to the ground, and landed gently in the
puddle.
Where I came by, hours later, but still
early morning, with the marauding pup racing about, clenching in his teeth
a long thick stick, bursting with his delight,
while I in my flip flops still, and happy
for it, wandered down the lane and soaked in the cathedral feeling
of the tall trees swaying in the early
autumn winds,
of their overhanging branches covering
everything from above;
and then down I gazed at each puddle
filled with new and wondrous colors and light, changing moment to moment with
noone but myself to witness.
As I thought about all that exists and
happens and trees falling in forests and cells dividing and rocks that have
been here since so long ago and those of us living come to be and then ending
our time here; so many things much like the single leaf loosening from it’s
branch,
after being a bud in spring and a
beautiful tender new unfurled leaf in early summer and a stalwart leaf adhering
to its perch through rough thunderstorms
and slowly its composition changing as
the light changed and the temperatures shifted and the tree responded in kind,
and the leaf changed colors and its hold became tenuous,
and then in one small instant when
possibly no one was watching, not even a chipmunk or a Kestrel or a few grains
of stardust, it came loose and had its one flight of its life,
sweeping down and down in small dancing
arcs, until it landed, shining in the waters, and its decomposition and
contribution to continuation, began.
as the season moved inexorably along.
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