December...

...and winter came and I fell far away, and detached... as the garden these days—aloof and quieted. I’m drawn to its spell, slowly humming me to quiet down too... and built isolated walls around my heart.  

If I could mention only one good thing about living in a cold climate place like we do, it will have to be the coziness of cold winter days—fluffing up your nest with pillows and warm blankets; pretty fleecy throws, lighting up the candles in the middle of the afternoon and filling your space with Nature as much as you are able to.

Life has continued as it has all throughout this bitter year, but we are doing well, our family has grown; both in members and in blessings and I am thankful for a job a go to everyday without feeling miserable inside and people who I can relate to and let me expand and grow.

At home, our bedroom is in the upstairs; close to a window where the sunset sky is the gift, I get every evening before the stars come out. Now that is already dark when we get home, it is Sirius the brightest start what accompanies my nights.

I wasn’t going to decorate our home for Christmas this year.  My spirit wasn’t set alight as other years,  and I didn’t feel the bright light spirit shining inside, but then we took out the few ornaments and Christmas décor from the one box where they are kept, and now the Christmas tree is up—by the bay window at the front of the house again; where passerby would see it and where we too, as we arrive home every evening.

I love to see lights from the outside. Lights make a home a cozy nest where one would think things are good—warmth, good food, health, family and understanding. And I wish it would be like that for every home...

Last week I decided I wanted to move our dining table close to that window by the kitchen.  That’s where our dinning room was years ago.  When we moved back, I took what it used to be the Fisherman’s office and made it into our dinning room. It is a super small room and the big square table was too much for the confined space.  I wanted to be able to sit at the table again this morning, have our meals there, instead on the kitchen counter and be able to look to the garden.  So, I did.  I moved it back. 

I am pleased.  I get my much-needed sunshine sitting by the window and although it is nothing like our little white cottage with its romanticism of feral and birds, I still can look outside. 

The room we were using as our dinning room, it is now my reading/prayer room.  I have filled it up with everything I love and I have surrounded by self with plants, books and soft uplifting music.  

If you are still coming here, and remember me, 

be happy

be well

be blessed

 

 

Autumn roses

Winter has definitely settled among the autumnal leaves scattered in the garden.  I’ve been sitting outside warming my soul by the fire, and I should give you a tour of the quieted winter garden, for the merry season of the year has born... like the bright berries on the cherry tree.  

And I will... I will show you around soon, but the last glories of this past fall—October, are forcing me to show you how the garden looked just a few weeks ago.

It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon. 

Then... there are the last roses of the year.  Hanging from their branches like tissue paper roses right before the petals drop.

They truly do become art specimens... like the jewels on a woman on a vintage painting...

 

I do love fresh roses.... but I truly think that when they dry on the bush, they acquire a special type of beautify that it is almost magical...

 

I love the peaceful of the garden this time of the year, love dried roses still hanging on green leaves, the mist of mornings and the golden light of late afternoons... I love October and love loving it all!

I hope you all are doing good... be happy be close to the real source of happiness!

God bless!

 

 

October

October, what is it in you, what magic you bring with you to send my heart aglow?  You bring a quiet peacefulness to the garden, and even amid world chaos, you bring days of relieve.  You bring us outside and let us sit under the umbrellas of a gentle sun, feeling only peace...  

I wear my flowery skirts and sit under your spell...

Warm mid-day breezes, cool mornings and delicious evenings, insects have moved away 

and you brought to the garden the perfume of late blooms again.  

What is it not to love about you, October! Even your name is lovely— October!  

It is no wonder I was born cradled in your arms. 

Lemon mint is sweeping floors with spices and one of the clematis is in bloom for the first time.  

And all those rose bushes I thought I'd never see a rose on them again, have forgiven me, and they have forgiven Nature's demise of the early months and have, once again, put forth their flowers.

They have gifted me their jewels again, right the end of the season, just to remind me that hope always triumphs and that life is precious and it is worth of living. 

I have always been enamored of October.  It is the perfect season and the perfect lover of the heart.  If I could I would make me a home in October, I would call it by name and made me a crown with its jewels.  I am an October child.  

Roses at the end of the season is a gift from above.

Oh, but everything else is too...  

“In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October, when the trees are bare to the mild heavens, and the red leaves bestrew the road, and you can feel the breath of winter, morning and evening—no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air.” Alexander Smith

Enjoy each and every little miracle call blessings,

my friend!

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.