Home

Ten days away from home—Canada, Niagara Falls, NY, Old Westbury.  People, people, and crowded spaces everywhere everyday.  And my empath soul absorbing all that energy around me; and at time, becoming drained.  

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for life.  Thank you for breath.  Thank you for earth.  I will remain here until I can fly to another planet.  I will always be tender.  Thank you for my highly sensitive self.  Help me accept me the way I am, help me remember that although I may be misunderstood by others and even criticized for being a sensitive human being, it is OK to be sensitive, for that’s what happens when you have magic in your heart.  Because, yes, I feel all the things and I use every part of my heart.

And what a transformation had taken place here in my garden and in my little world, as I came back to it—with my heart in my hands and my knees on its grounds; as a thanksgiving and a total surrendering of the soul.

 

More dahlias in bloom, more late roses mellowing the winds, the vines have turned flushed with the colors of fall and everything seems to be carrying upon themselves cloaks and shrouds most fitting of the new season.

What privilege, what marvelous things is to come back to the solitude of this sacred place of mine and be able to freed my overloaded self of unnecessary social mundanities.  

 

I have to pick all those ripe grapes waiting for me in sleepy vines, and I have to fill birdfeeders and change the water in birdbaths, and the morning sun coming from the window on my right side this morning is filling the room with magic and golden light and I can see, through the window, the golden specks of magic fluttering around the atmosphere; filling my heart with a special joy and the faith that sustains my soul.

 

 

 

I am happy.  I am a little girl dancing with my Father in a great ballroom where people dance to a different tune.  I see them laughing empty laughs and I see them missing the whole point in life…  this is the curse, and the blessing of the empath—feeling the distance, the doubt and life to a different degree.  We sense the shift before it can even be verbalized… 

Mellow Yellow

I’m not at home.  I’m writing this from a hotel conference room across from the Niagara Falls, but I fathom that my heart will always reside at home; for it is in my nature to dream, talk and write about it wherever I may be. 

Before we left home, I decided to change the colors of our living room.  I did this in accord to the changes taking place outside, for the atmosphere of the summer garden one day changed swiftly, and unexpectedly—as in a blink of an eye, and the garden acquired a new feel to it, and it was wrapped in a new refreshed autumnal mood, which inspired me to change things inside my house too… and thus, the pinks of summer were swapped by mellow yellows and the few ceramic pumpkin the color of persimmon gold and harvest green. 

The few pink roses and peony bouquets were changed by yellow sunflowers with their big brown centers, which, although evocative of summer, and summer days, they always speak to my heart of early fall and autumnal day in the fields.

Thinking about autumn can bring about some pleasant thoughts. And while it is common to think about cozy scarves and delicious pies, the symbolic meanings of autumn are more profound than you think. Ancient cultures, science, and astrology have associated many aspects of this beautiful season to human life. These symbolic associations are powerful reminders that Mother Nature has an incredible influence on our lives.  So, let us go outside, look around and enjoy, really enjoy everything we see, and feel.

A taste of fall

We are definitely standing at the door of another season—a change is felt in the air, and around here, I am sure we have already entered ‘that door’ and now we are standing in the antechamber of that season of cozy sweaters and leaves the color of pumpkins and cinnamon, cardamom and maple syrup. 

Sweaters in the morning and sunshine in the afternoon.  The garden greets magical beings at midday when the doves come down to drink from fountains and birdbaths and my soul soars over pink roses and dream of beds of petals…    

On days like these I like to think of pretty things… like pretty perfume labels and thin white cotton fabric or pale pink roses and French sugar bowls and fireflies in the field and the smell of maple syrup.  And today it rained all day… a tick-tack-tock of a rain a pitter patter on the window pane and the sky turned into a murky dove.  Rain touches my soul.  Rain makes me go around wanting to change things around… Every new season, every rainy day the feelings are the same.  I want to bake, redecorate, renovate, transform and change the colors in my house. 

I collected some dahlias from the garden the other day, and made a bouquet to adorn a corner of my kitchen.  

I wanted a fresh fragrant bouquet in the blue table by the window where roses slumber and, sometimes climb to bed with us too, so I run to the veggie garden, cut a tomato branch and placed it in a pretty pink vase.  Now, our room has the scent of fresh, fragrant tomato leaves.

I bought two more houseplants yesterday, and repot some of my old planters. In view of the colder days ahead, all the blue and white ceramic pots were brought inside too.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns. ~ George Eliot

The Dunes

Under the cooler air of the pre-season, the gypsies went out again.  To the high desert and to the sand dunes and amazing fauna and flora they love so much.  A lovely breeze was running through the campsite making out of the art of camping a real true joy. 

The old gypsies stationed their gypsy trailer right under one of the biggest and broadest trees adorning the campsite, and right under its fronds they arranged their chairs and called the space their little living room… 

Refreshing breezes played in branches and among leaves as the songs of birds filled the heavens and serenated the early afternoon.  We read, we made lunch and then continued reading some more.  I watched at how puffy white clouds moved along the bluest emptied sky, resembling old ships navigating some ancient seas.  I listed for the voices of coyotes in the far distance and to the songs of birds, then we decided to walk down to the lake… 

Oh but this is still the desert my friends, and it is still the end of summer too, which means that all of a sudden the afternoon turned to fire on us.  A great heat came pulsing down on us, surrounding us like flames and heavy sweat and the entire campsite felt drowsy and heavy and the only thing we could do to cease the discomfort this heat brought on us was to run to the showers for a nice refreshing soak.  And how nice it felt and how refreshed our skin felt after that.

When we came to our campsite again after our shower, how different things looked and felt.   The Fisherman made pizza and we ate our dinner as we watched at other campers and new arrivers come in and worked on their spaces.  Soon, the sun was glowing gold in the west and the light was like a cascade of glimmers and jewels and pieces of gold being showered down on us from the heavens.  So beautiful, so very beautiful the entire sky had turned, that I decided we should go out again and walk the trails of the dunes under this magnificent light.  And thus, we did.

 

a blaze of color -- oranges, pearly pinks, the sky turned to a dusky purple...

Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine desert vegetation, prairie, lake and marsh habitat; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the grasslands the color of love and Spanish mysteries.

Oh sunlight! The most precious gold to be found on Earth.”

 

On our way back we were welcomed by one of the most intriguing and beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen… dusty rose and smoky burnt orange sky illuminated by this kind of an obtuse grey light that reminded me of light streaming in through wavy paned glass windows, and I’m not sure why it took me to a memory of another place in time that I couldn’t place...  the shadow of the moon fell on the world in peace…

 

 And what a beautiful beautiful the next morning of that Sabbath was.  In the afternoon we left our gypsy trailer and went to a nearby lake to spend the hottest hours of the day by the water.  On our way we saw a mule deer and stopped at the center for ice cream.  At the lake, the Fisherman when to fish and the gypsy girl sat down to read under the shade of a plant growing by the water, and she remembered Jonah and the story and how the Lord God provided a leafy plant and made it grow up over Jonah to give shade for his head to ease his discomfort, and Jonah was very happy about the plant.  And so was I with my plant.  It was breeze and under its shade I stood for hours reading while the Fisherman talked to his fishes until he had enough. 

That night we decided not to go to bed as early as we usually do and instead went star gazing at the Observatory!  We watched a presentation inside the Education Center, saw the night sky and viewed the planets, nebulas, and galaxies.  People went in their Pjs, and it was dark and cozy and you felt as if flying the night sky to other galaxies far away.  Then, it was the real viewing of the heavens through the Observatory’s collection of telescopes outside.  People made lines and the Fisherman and I headed over to our cozy gypsy trailer for the night… there was a bright full moon illuminating shadowed trails and the desert seem to glow. 

I love this place so much... in every season and every weather.