September

September slipped by almost without a notice.  Days in days out and here we are, already standing on the brink of another month. It is a big month—October is.  Big in every aspect of life, big in you, big in me... and I sit and watch the world go round and round, and ask myself if I’m prepared for what’s coming. 

It is as if autumn had arrived a bit earlier this year too.  Much earlier that it is supposed to, or used to be, and as it is, myriads of yellow leaves are already covering green grasses, and over and above the garden, an invisible hand had spread out that veil of quietness and stillness, so proper of the autumnal days.  

We are ahead of things.  Ahead of time and time is running out.  

I am living my life as I should, I am finding refuge and solace in the Invisible, I want to sell and move to the country, leave the big cities—hide.  Under His wings.

This weekend I worked again in the garden.  Grasses and shrubs have recovered to a new lushness and freshness and roses have put new healthy leaves again and buds of all colors are forming... and perhaps, I will even get to see some more roses before the season comes to an end?  I live in expectancy and sometimes miracles happen. 

The Tatarian Maple I planted two years ago has finally taken a flight and it is almost reaching the necessary height to conceal the two-story house on the other side of the fence. 

It is lovely, just lovely to be surrounded by Nature.  My dream of moving to the country side or a place outside a subdivision it is still pretty much alive, even more now when mass migration from burning California and Washington State is finding a new home in our beautiful Idaho.  It is upsetting—the amount of new homes, the proximity, the increasing population and the loss of peaceful, beautiful, open spaces and farmland that only yesterday were ours.  All gone now. 

Times are changing for sure. And I’m afraid that it will continue on changing with a scary increasing swiftness.