Thursday, October 4, 2012

October Interlude

Abiqui, New Mexico. 2011


I am taking the month of October off to work on other projects and hold on to fall. October is my favorite month. My dad turns 39 again, my Ayla turns eight, and Noah and I have our ten year anniversary. I'm hoping for a beautiful autumn, but right now the rain has left all the colors muted and dull. Still, the forecast holds promise. We will buy our marshmallows and stoke our fires. Every day in the morning light I watch blue and red birds dart like hope and passion grown from trees. Something you could either harvest, or pass and let it lie. I miss the high desert, the audacity of the colors and the land. I read Rumi and make plans for other lives. Characters on the page. "Blades will sprout / where you do your work". I wish I could send you the scent of my beehive, which more than once has made me nearly cry. All summer long they've labored. They've created nothing short of heaven. If sacred love had a scent, it would be this. The scent is golden, it is dripping, like a memory of childhood and grass. It is the fragrance of the feel of sunlight on your eyelids. The only thing to do is survive the winter. I want to be like the bees and never fret or ask why. They cut back their brood-rearing and seal off their doors. Already their tired wings seek succor. Already their bee-minds think of spring.


Kenosha Pass, Colorado. 2010

6 comments:

  1. That's about the most peaceful post I've read today, and your description of the bees and their honey and the smell is just intoxicating. The photos, too -- so utterly sweet. I hope you're not taking a break from here for a whole month (I'll miss you!), but if you are, happy, happy everything.

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  2. What amazingly beautiful pictures and words. You may have just sold me on fall.

    xoxo The Summer-Lover

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  3. Your posts are quite often like devotionals for me. They make me pause and reflect. I like that. But what I really want to know is this: now that you're experiencing Autumn in the South, have you said "Happy Fall, Y'all!" yet? You know you want to!!!

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  4. Dear Marie, whose comments do not appear, thank you. You'll be happy to know we are having a spectacular, sunny autumn day this Friday.

    Elizabeth, thank you. The best way I know to make myself blog is by publicly announcing I'm going to quit, so we'll see.

    Marianne, fall is more complicated for me now than it used to be, due to a terrible bout of sesaonal depression two winters ago. But we'll deal with winter when we come to it.

    Jane, you are right, I have been missing out all along. Thanks for calling this to my attention.

    HAPPY FALL, Y'ALL!

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  5. Aww :( I miss seeing my poet of a sister 'round these parts.

    Kenosha Pass...hey, is that where we found ourselves that time we had a flat tire on the top of the most remote pass in Colorado??? That was fun. Good times...

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  6. "the fragrance of the feel of sunlight on your eyelids"...oh dear you have done it again. These are feelings I never know how to describe!! Beautiful pictures. Here's to the journey to/through winter...may we all come through unscathed!!

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