Today's blog was going to be on the subject of December nights, the light from the stars and the direction they give, or something like that, but the day had other plans~

The day started with a pink orchestra showering over half the sky, filling the soul with faith, (if you like, pictures of this morning, are in the seasonal photo section.). Within an hour, the pink gave way to heavy grayness. A gray that isn't like the storm clouds that bode a lovely release, or the sharp frost of snow coming that bites and caresses the face at the same time. No, this cloud cover came with a pending, pendulous, pondering presence. A Heavy blanket of stillness. A heavy sense that feels, ever so fine about hovering and hanging out indefinitely. Did I say indefinitely? Yep, hanging overhead without saying a word. (I find I rather dislike the uncertainty of indefinite...)

I go about the busyness of my day, noticing the waiting, the lack of release, feeling fitfully always aware of the edgy overhead presence. I notice that I feel heavy too without the anticipation of graceful snow, shooting sleet, or winter rain. So I accept and practice breathing into the discomfort, allowing, and surrendering ~ Breathing in the taut uncertainty and out the gentleness I crave. I allow myself, like the clouds to Simply hang in uncertain balance.

I have heard stories of similar, if not darker clouds, hovering over distant horizons in western deserts, where they load the sky with imminence and possibility, yet never arrive. The wait that must create, the surrender that must entail.... That is a mouthful.

Just last night, on a walk by an unseen bubbling brook ~ it was quite dark being so close to the new moon. I felt the joy of crisp moisture on my cheeks, and knew the water moved with ease. The pricks of cold felt like water sprites dancing on my skin, laughing and musical. It made me laugh out loud to think of their joyful play. Just last night....

Now, indeed, in dull contrast, the air does not move freely. I can not find comfort from the skies.

So I turn within. I dig deep, where, I can still feel the feelings, but now, I can tease them out~ I notice that the weight feels like a kind of internalized dread, a despair at a primal level, a feeling of the turn of a wheel and the potential for death, despair and endings. I notice I feel heavy and slow myself. Ponderous. I notice that without movement in the atmosphere, I feel shadowed, aged, as though life is ebbing. So, noicing, I practice allowing for all of it: Breathing in, I surrender to the feelings, leaving judgement behind; I dig deep to an internal place of strength, an internal light, and exhaling, I offer that light to me and the earth.

Breathing helps me return to right now, right here, breathing in and out.
Discomfort? Ahh, breathing. Last forever? Ahh return to now, not future....breathing.

Breathing into my heart, as I write this piece just now, a ray of sunshine appeared across the written page. It disappeared just as quickly. Where did it come from?! A ray of light through the thick clouds; Ahh, I notice that light and suddenly, in being here now, my heart feels Lighter. And, now, I remember that the sun, just like all stars, and life, light and regeneration all exist, even beyond the physical vision, beyond these clouds.

Until I see it again, I shall watch for the starlight, star flame within, now.
And rest into the strength it takes to be here now,
Rest in my heart, where there is a flame making light now,
though I may not always see or feel it.
And rest in the believing in the light that brought that flash across my page.

Always ~ wishing you the vision of internal light... there are more writings of my musing on the Venus page for your perusal : ). Link above, or here: https://inlightofthetrees.com/venus-muse/

"Magic lies in the empty space
between all bodies
of matter"

And ~

"Music exists
because there're empty spaces between the notes."

Have you seen the moon courting Jupiter and Saturn?
As it hovers, swirls, and glows in the early evening sky?
When the light gives way to the dark, and the celestial bodies begin to show their brightness?
That is when you can see the moon dancing near, first to the right, sometimes over, and now to the left of those other "big planet lights." She has been encircling those large planets, incorporating them in her dance since rising from her dark phase. The moon, the symbol of many things, has been very close by, not leaving these two far from her path. Even as they travel closer and closer, she has courted them. I wonder what dreams she transfers, shares, and communicates in this dance.

The crescent moon has always comforted me, feeling like a friendly companion on my nights and days. She especially comforts me now, as we enter a deeper and longer pause in social participations. And more unknowns ask us to refrain from assigning judgement or assumptions. Tonight, she reminds me of faith, trust, hope. She also reminds me of things that I love: my home of roundness, the invisible suddenly becoming visible, the power of reflection, the power of change, of rising and falling, of light and dark, of softness and strength, of water kiself. *

In contrast to her enigmatic variable path, Jupiter and Saturn have been present in the southern sky for months on end, with only minute daily shifts, as they march inexorably closer, and closer,
closing the space between them daily.
They intend to meet for this engagement on December 21st, 2020
~ The Solstice ~

The Solstice, when the Sun appears to stand still, when the Earth slowly shifts and wends her way back to the polar season, when the Sun comes the closest to a deep Pause in the dance of life, during this very stillness, the two big lights will have their destined discussion. Will there be room in these discussions for understanding and compromise? Will there be Space for listening? Will benevolence win...

When so much stands still in our daily lives, when so little is understood, when so much, is much, much drama... I breath into the night sky ~ The moon, who guides me comforts me indeed, and her presence during this march feels like a beautiful portent. The path of the planets, so linear, unwaveringly long and straight, the path of the moon, as ever, swirling circling, watering edges dance of beauty and delight, offers options and contrast. Just two nights ago, when still slivery thin, she formed a long triangular tableau with them. It felt like a reminder for us all to remember, perspective, gentleness, delicacy, tears, hope, comfort, inner light.

It feels that this November, the moon's dance is a reminder of the unknown and the mysterious beauty of allowing space for All.

During their coming Solstice meeting, what will the big planets remember of their November dance with the moon? What edges have been softened? Will they remember the mystery of water, of allowing space for the unknown to grow and blossom? On that Solstice clock, how will the edges of their decisions be massaged by the glow of this dancing moon? Will they remember that the unknown cannot be mapped? Will they remember that the shadows support the light? As emptiness supports the notes? As water defines the land?

Will they remember that all paths lead home?

I pray they do.
I pray we all do.
I pray we all remember the love that lives within us now and in every future now.

"If we know anything about a path at all, to live with an open heart and without fear, it's only because of the great beings who have gone before us, who have left some footprints for us to follow .... May we all live in Peace, and ease of heart with whatever comes to us in life.
When we know who we are, when we live in the love that lives within us, Then we are at peace. May we all be that". Krishna Das

*for new subscribers, I use the pronoun "ki" as described by Robin Wall Clemerer as a more respectful way to refer to our brothers and sisters on this Earth.*

Even though winter has arrived, and there is much beauty to share, it is the blowing of the leaves in the sky that captivated my thoughts recently. While watching them, a new understanding came to me, one that I would like to share. So, for now, this blog is one more piece about leaves ....

While watching the wild ride of late Autumn oak leaves swirling in the air, I felt something I had never noticed before ~ that the air was vibrating, and doing so not only from the surges of wind, but also from the leaves that the wind carries. The release of the leaf transferred energy into the atmosphere like like the latent heat transfer of evaporation of a liquid, or of laughter into the air, when a tree releases a part of ki-self, energy is also liberated. In letting the leaf go, the tree offers a gift of energy into the world. The release provides something more than we see and that something is a gift to the universe.

Then this understanding came ~ Those leaves that lie so soft on the roots of the earth, are not the same things as the crunchy duff they will become in a few days. AHA! ~ the leaves falling in the wind, continue to carry the essence of life for a few more hours as they lay themselves in the arms of Mother Earth. They are still alive.

Wow, after centuries of collecting, watching and loving leaves, I am now able to see that the newly fallen leaf I hold in my hand, also holds a little piece of the magnificent life of the dear tree from which it fell.

No wonder, I have collected, revered, treasured autumn leaves for so long.

I collect these leaves every year, without fail. I gather them reverently, wonderingly, marveling at each piece, as a lover holds onto the gifts of her beloved, treasuring, holding them as reminders of times when they will meet again. Perhaps, I sense a lesson that it can teach, or a gift it has to offer and like a crow drawn to the sparkle, have picked it up to store in my nest.

What is this magic it has to teach me? Perhaps the gift is the the magic of release, and beauty of letting go. That in releasing the beauty of the summer, we liberate energy for new life.

If I could capture in a sentence the lesson from the leaves before me today, perhaps it would like a little like this

Oak- to help, assist in the path of releasing unneeded burdens, releasing the need to be strong
Maples- to assist the release of anything that is prevents the experience of joy.
Beech_ Holding our hands to assist in the release of belief in separateness.

What a sparkling treasure indeed!

Now, when I hold a newly fallen leaf, I can hold the treasure with even more gratitude, receive the tree's gift of life shining through the leaf, and then let it change me, like an alchemist changing lead into gold.

"One day the Goddess sang...
I have been listening to the hymns of creating, enchanted by the verses. Yet still I am curious.... What is this mysterious awareness shimmering everywhere within it?

"I have been listening to love songs of Form longing for formless...

"What is this power we call Life?.. How may I know this mystery and enter it more deeply?" excerpts from Banter Verses translated by L Roche

The leaves have flown free from their branches now. One or two do remain, dangling gently on the ancient Maples outside the window at work. These magnificent beings have kept me company throughout the season of release, demonstrating, with great pinache, the way to Let Go. I have wanted to honor the wisdom from the trees, and now, only now begin to find words that may reflect the Light shared. Witnessing the process of release this Fall has been quite breath-taking.

These times have offered lots of opportunities to practice releasing, as well as staying in the here and now. The trees continually teach me on this path, as they demonstrating in unparalleled ways how to revel in the glorious moment of now ~ offering me and us all physical reminders to stop, notice, breath deeply ~

With their help, I breathe in the ineffable beauty and mystery, of the ungraspable Now.

To aid that process, I look up often, to purposefully witness the dance of light, color and wind. Their show stopping beauty catches my breath and in that moment of recognition, All Story lines end; All colors merge into one. Time stops

The beauty alone is not what stops the awareness of time in me, or the litany of words that muck about within, in too many nooks and crannies; what really unhooks me, is the visible juxtaposition of life and death in their dance. Their joy in release. What really ceases the tyranny of thought in me, is the taste of the effervescent celebration of life and death held within each breathtaking golden glowing moment of color and motion.

The leaves, dancing in a changing river of glowing light, catch the playful wind, sing their songs out loud in color. In the dance, the invisible shifts within me and my load feels light. Light shifts, the wind ceases, or the moment ends; yet another begins with something new. Each moment sailing into the next with a wake of beauty trailing behind, until eventually it all falls away, breathtakingly.

This celebration, this light show, is a contemplation of joy in constancy and change. Inherent to the process is acceptance of both life and death, in the changing of the colors. Just as there is acceptance in nature in the changing of the day to night. There is acceptance of an end of a season, even as the Earth herself welcomes them all the leaves home. Birches golden fluttering leaf, have turned to Maple reds and orange, and now oaks rusty crimson Sienna. The Earth floor receives them all with open arms.

The very transience of this quintessence is what makes the world stop for me. Makes me pull over on a busy road and step out of my car. Brings breath to my lungs and brings wonder to my eyes.

Meanwhile, the trees will keep playing this eloquence of life with or without audience. The show of beauty and transcience, does not wait for me to wake up. It plays and dances the the joy of the moment, knowing something I forget, that life is precious in everyway, in every expression, in every moment, a gift - celebrate it! Celebrate the changes, the winds, the light. Celebrate now, where life resides; celebrate in this very moment of release and surrender. I arrive home to this remembering in bits and pieces, hoping to arrive fully someday.

I WANT to be the audience. I want to arrive. To stop all distractions and notice what is most important. To stay and say Yes. Yes to Life and love and death and change. To sit in the middle of the fields and embrace it all until the surrender of the leaves themselves, cover me from head to toe.

I want to dance, sing and play in the game, witness the blessed moment as awake as possible. Forgetting all else in the precious presence of now. A now that is so visible and so blessed during "foliage" season. With endless paths to beauty, I choose this.

When we choose peace, we initiate a journey of wholeness ~ C Clemmer

Though I witness it everyday, the opportunity to see the alacrity with which my thoughts create my reality, I still find my mind frequently busying itself with worry, like fingers on a rosary. It seems so strange to me that I would ever choose to entertain such companions rather than focusing on thoughts of miracles, peace and beauty. One might even call such worry thoughts as indulgence, one might even call it an addiction. Sigh, it certainly feels reckless to choose thoughts that do not reflect the peace I desire. But there you have it ~ there are times when my mind dances with partners that I would rather not even have as company in my living room!

There exists much research demonstrating how the way we think is what we will find as the "Real" "Truth," the "Real" reality. (Just look at politics as an example of this phenomena). Where you focus is indeed WHAT you WILL see: Endless obsession over anything? You will discover more of that. Imagining endless possibilities or miraculous blessings? You find them! (SO why am I not imagining the next possible miracle that could cross my path?!!)

And all this thought/worry? It takes me far, far FAR away from the present moment of now, the now that brings me home to me.

One recent afternoon, when I discovered that I had such bedfellows as my companions, in desperation, to shift me back to the present, I took myself and my camera outside. Something about my camera brings me back to the now by helping me see beauty, even if is indirect; but hey, I am a Cancer, I walk sideways to my destination!!!

So I started looking for what was beautiful in my environment, and I landed on the flower seen above. That did the trick, I was in more equanimity again; but it was not until later when I looked at my photos that I saw the quintessence of self-possession, nowness, magic contained in that flower. The flower feels like an angel of peace itself ~ and there it flies in my garden.

Adding to the magic of that moment, that flower happens to also be one that starts as one color and transforms in its life into a myriad of several other colors.~ Imagine that!! ~ The ability to change identities with ease? The ability to release one form for another with grace? The skill to allow the story of one's identity to unfold with a relaxed self-acceptance? Wow. That feels miraculous. I feel grateful for my roaming mind that day; it got me running out of my home, out of my routine in search of nowness. There, when I stopped long enough to Pause and notice, I found a miracle: an example of unfurling into evolution with beauty and grace.

A miracle in my garden that I may not have noticed, if I had not stopped.

Well, I shall try to imagine more self-acceptance today. I shall attempt to embrace change and its evolution with wonder~ I shall embrace the unfolding of beauty in this day. However it presents.

~What more wonderful miracles can I imagine now?

• ~ Birch Leaf Falling Day!! ~ •

The golden Autumn light swirling in free fall
Alighting the moment with alchemy
Bringing light and life
Releasing her burdens gently, in a cascade of motion.

The Birchtree, along with all the trees are releasing their leaves now,.
And with this they turn the dial up on Beauty!

The fire within the trees decorates the air raucously, audaciously, and in brilliance ~ dancing unapologetically, and without reservation or shyness, knowing that soon their efforts will bring complete transformation to the hillsides. Surrendering to life and death.
There is a mistiness today, perhaps called by the trees, to compliment the canvas that arrives with the misty coolness, and just in time; the moisture washes the dust off the mirror of my soul. And, the wind has joined the party today, creating mirth and helping the trees to release by blowing the leaves tumultuously into the air.

The Earth, the blessed kind Earth, receives this Golden Abundance with open arms. The tree blow their kisses to earth, and the leaves lay themselves gently on her, blanketing her gentleness with the mantle of their love.

Here, in the forest, the elements are In LOVE with each other! Unabashedly, unashamedly, freely, raucously in love. That which started as an idea within the Earth, last February, returns to her once again, completing the cycle of magic.

This alchemy, which the trees play in, is a relief of balance; a hint of forces unseen, a balance of inbreathe and out, a demonstration of the living yin and yang, or mysteries I can only begin to dream of.
I seek and study this balance where elements may interact and flow with ease within the whole, where there resides a home for All of life. The trees and forest create a playground of diversity, an expression of laughter, a unity in alchemy and disorder, an experiment in the expression of the many to the bring the song of the One to creation.

Also, I notice that the elements of fire, water, air, earth and wind interact in variable amounts in any given moment in nature. And occasionally, each is given free opportunity for full and outrageous expression. That moving dance of the elements may look a little like this~

Starting with Autumn, as that is the season I am in, I can see that the season infuses the very air with its Fire, I am drawn to the intense colors of red, orange and yellow. Then there is an urge within me to rise and greet the Winds. The moving Air delights in tossing the leaves off the trees, swirling them up, up, up up, until at some unseen point, they are released, allowing them to dance their way back down to Earth. The winds of late Autumn can also stir up more than leaves, when darker storm clouds arrive, bring needed Water and other swirling stories.

Some days, the trees call in the Waters in such quantity ~ great rains and snows that steep their roots, soaking deep into the Earth; during these days, it can feel that no fire will ever feel possible again.

During these days, when not any of the summer fire or fire of life can be felt or remembered to this one human, I seek inner ground, knowing if the trees can do it, so can I. And then, at last, arrives the Winter quiet, when all is still and deep, like the thoughtful restful Earth herself. This time nourishes and grounds me.

Eventually, the early Spring Sun begins to warm the Earth, initially with a quiet fire, allowing life to emerge above from deep underground ground. Then, we all emerge washed in Spring Rains, ready for new dreams, new hope, new Fire. Spring with its own inner balance of elements will lead us to the next season and on...

The ever shifting balance of inner and outer elements expresses itself through this day. All elements dancing together in life, bringing life.
So much more can be said about this moving cycle and the whole~ How blessed I am to have such wise, persistent teachers. In this dance, the forest turns on in the great Wheel of life with grace, majesty, and above all Beauty.

I was hesitant to write this post in a time when elements rage so painfully in other forests, when precious beauty seems lost in burning fires. Still, I hope if I follow the example of the trees and learn to balance my own inner elements, perhaps it may bring greater balance without. Below are the questions I have found in these days to address my own path, my balance (or imbalance) and my moving dance.

My fires that burn within, How can I toss and swirl with them, expressing them safely, allowing them to burn until the lessons are learned?
The rains that soak me with grief, How can I welcome them to nourish and cool me?
The winds that toss and bend me, How can I sway flexibly with them, surrendering to them and laughing as a falling birch leaf?
The blankets of quiet and stillness on solid ground, How can I welcome and embrace this now with the nourishing rest it gives?

Those are my musings for now, on elements and balance. I am sure more will arrive, but I wish to post this blog before it gets any longer!
One more quote from a wise one~

"If the storm has already arrived and your heart is too sad to dance, just wait. Let the sound of rain soothe you. Catch storm water. Touch the Earth."
Leah Whitehorse

Also, the Venus Muse page is alive and well, with new writings, if interested, here is the link: https://inlightofthetrees.com/venus-muse/

From an excursion out at night:
The sun is behind a thick layer of clouds tonight. Clouds and Fog. A gift.
A gift to be surrounded by so much moisture. I came up the mountain to watch what would unfold. To be with the All.

As I sit on the rock, to watch the fog roll across the trees and close hills, a wind shifts, allowing the bank to lift seamlessly, effortlessly, revealing a vision of orange and pink, colors outlining an opening in the distant clouds. A glowing pink of cloudness, backlit by a setting sun. It is an opening that had been invisible, hidden behind fog, and now seen and held in this moment of time. The fog parts long enough to reveal the existence of Light. Then fog dances quickly back into place, like a wave of the ocean, tossing and rolling in its own destiny, in its own timing.

My camera does not quite catch the clarity of outline and light revealed. So I inhale and watch. And then, to my surprise and awe, a flash of lightening lights the same distant cloud. Then another, and another, lighting up the far bank of gray. And then joining me to witness the display of light in the dark, arrives a lone Night hawk who flies a few feet over my head on her mission; she graces me too with increased awe, as she flies on, in her own path.

Oh, Yes

Oh, Great Spirit, thank you. And may I remember this moment, this glow, this throbbing pink of clouds, this gift. May I remember that hope lies beyond the fog, like a warm ray of sunshine breaking through all doubt. May I remember my own throbbing heart in the midst of the unseen. Shine on, shine on dear heart. Shine on in the dark. Your shining, is my light for my flight.

(This is the closest image of those clouds as seen by my camera)

"Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!!
What a task
to ask

to ask of anything, or anyone,

yet it is ours,
and not by the century or the year, but by the hours."
from Snow Geese, by Mary Oliver

The birds quiet. I hear sweet reminders of them as they search for food, and sing to the dawn, and to life itself. And I know that their stay in my homelands is winding down. I pause often, to listen; I pause because in my historic body, I know that I feel their leaving and will miss them. I seek to appreciate, rejoice, relish and celebrate every single second I have with them before they migrate South.

It seems, that every year, when they lift off and fly to their winter homes, when the winds of time and Spirit call then on, I notice their absence keenly; I will feel that moment within like a bell announcing an ending.

Yes, this time of year also brings many other gifts. Autumn harvests and brisk nights. Still, in my heart, I also feel the pang of grief and of loss, as these Summer messengers leave their summer grounds, and head for their winter homes.

That day approaches, it may even have already begun for certain species.

In some indigenous languages, different birds have different functions, to call in the rain, or sun, to bring life and renewal. To the traditional Q’eqchi’, bird vocalization are communications with the mountain-valley gods themselves. Bird songs and calls reflect prayers, praises, thanksgiving, announcements, and omens. As servants of the divine, birds bring revelations. I feel that reverence and service with them and from them, in the waking dawn, the bright day, and the quieting twilight

So I listen closely. Now, here, is the chirping of the thrush deepening in the earlier twilight, the busy buzz of the hummingbird siblings diving for flowers and feeder to "fatten up" before their long flights south, and the whining of the catbird calling their young home. Many songs do indeed still drift in my open door at dawn and twilight. Soon it will be quiet and still.

When that day arrives, and chill of winter knocks, I will embrace a different music. Today, it is the songs of the birds I seek. And for the day when they lift off, following their own call, I will sing this prayer for them~

Goodbye Sweet birds, for now,
I will scribble messages in the sky for your to read as you fly
And I will look for messages from you.

May you find and follow the bliss of your heart
May the Angels travel with you
And bring you Safe winds and safe landings

I still,
And, I look forward to when
You Sail home
and your songs fill the gardens
of my heart once more.

I spotted one.

It was alone and fluttering in the zinnia bed, this traveler seemed rather slow, and looked a bit bedraggled. Perhaps it had traveled far on its journey North, to plant the seed for the next generation. It was, as you may have guessed, a Monarch.

This particular traveler brought me a ray of hope, offering the possibility that she or he heralded the arrival of many more to come, soon. The band of travelers that will bring the needed effusion of hope in times of change, and remind us all so powerfully, of the miracle of life, and rebirth, of the power of perseverence, hope and determination, and the power to fly free on a journey to parts unknown for a larger purpose. The symbol of this traveler runs deep in our spiritual lexicon. I look out for it.

As I understand the process, the Monarch leaves Mexico in early Spring and heads north. These emissaries have already lived 8-9 months to make this venture. After they travel north, they lay the first eggs for this round of the summer generations who will travel north. The ones that make it my door are apparently the fourth (or fifth?) grandchildren of the ones that left here last Fall, and left Mexico this Spring. Apparently, the last hatch of the summer have special powers: In addition to knowing, somehow, to fly south, they live longer, 8-9 months (not 2-4 weeks), their wingspan is bigger to help them manage the challenges of the flight, and survive against all odds, and I think they have a deeper orange color. This last generation has a special name ~ The Super Generation

I have images from Last Fall of their epic numbers when the caterpillar count was so large that many stands of milkweed were reduced to stalks in fields. And oh, the monarchs that emerged from the chrysali. Oh their wings, that glowed so brilliantly orange, so proudly shining, and ready to meet the challenges ahead of the long miles.

That was last year.

Where are they now? Will they still come? Will they have time to mate, lay the eggs for that special generation, grow fast and then emerge from chrysalis as butterflies? I hope so. Perhaps they know something I don't. Perhaps it has been too hot, dry or.. something.

I hope, the super generation emerges someplace, and once more flies free in great abundance.

In solidarity with the Monarch, and their ability to survive against all odds, and in hope for their future survival. I will leave the milkweed in my garden. I will, like them, listen to my calling and fly in integrity on my path believing in the impossible in the midst of great winds of change, despite obstacles and the distance needed to travel to my homeland. I will, despite the trials, glory in the flight and glow in the light as best I can, believing that my small effort and the efforts of a few will make a difference. Will make The difference for the future generations to come.

I will hold solidarity, belief and hope in their eternal symbol of joy, transformation, and freedom.

It has been hot this summer. Perhaps they know something I don't. Perhaps they know that more auspicious conditions will arrive soon; and perhaps those conditions will be the perfect ones to help co-create the generation needed to meet the tests and challenges ahead. I pray for this to be true.

Aho, and Bless you Spirit of Monarch.

~ Also, I want to let you know that the website will not alert you of posts added to the Venus page. For your convenience, I add the link here to that page is https://inlightofthetrees.com/venus-muse/ ~

August brings transitions. My nose can smell Autumn in the air. It may be something the leaves give off, and the gentle winds carry it to me. How ever it arrives, it signals a time to slow down. I move from the super productivity drive of June and early July, into Supreme Molasses Mode. 

I do not flow as fast, motivate as fast, nor rise to any need as fast. I feel ready to sit, ready to watch sunsets, ready to wonder at the growing insect population and ready to read. Even if there are many things still on my do list, as there are, or many things one might DO in the present moment, I find little inkling to do them.

My garden's aesthetic does, as a result, suffer ~ weeds grow faster than a caterpillar eats. Snails make patterns in my collards that I try to read like tea leaves. I don't mind though; unless it truly matters, I just move my chair over, and give the growing plants the space they desireto thrive in the hot sun. 

It is also, alas, the end of harvesting of some of my favorite desserts ~ wild raspberries! They become a rare treat now. I did just spy one this morning which melted in my mouth into divine elixir. Ahhhh.

The focus of my daily herb gathering also shifts: Elderflowers finished long ago, the St john'swort produces only a few flowers that I leave for the bees' dining, and most yarrow plants are starting to turn brown after the successful flowering season winds down. Well, I remind myself, there Are other gifts to enjoy; no need to gaze wistfully at the passing of the seasons ~ Such a human trait to resist change, and resist adjusting to the new bounty that the present moment offers; and instead to get stuck in a groove of past patterning, so well rutted that it we find it difficult to move with the abundant now. Well, I acknowledge the gifts of the past, and remind myself of the present ~ After all, calendula is just coming into stride, sunflowers, boneset and blue vervain also rise bountifully above the fray of weeds. 

Even in my slower pace, I do have a moment of worry. What if I didn't collect enough for my medicine chest? Do I have enough for the needs of winter chills and colds alike? I ask. myself that every year.... Genetic fears die hard, and resulting panic can momentarily overcome even the deepest of August's inertia.

As I write, trying to describe this August pace, I wondered about possible synonyms for the slowness I feel. My search resulted in words that offer only negative connotations- "laziness," "indolence," "apathy," even "decreased mental acuity." 

Of course, a culture that does not reward its members for pausing, or resting or getting adequate sleep, of course it does not applaud slowing down to the pace of August. It would not acknowledge the rewards of pausing when gardens can tend for themselves, winds slow to a quiet touch, insects drone one to drowsiness and heat requires welcome siestas.

I want a language that celebrates this time, that celebrates rest, and renewal and rebirth. I want language that opens to the possibilities inherent in pausing and listening and inherent in unwinding and relaxing. Language that celebrates bounty and beauty with slow appreciation. What new words can I give to this pace? How about the pace of fecundity? The flow of an eddy, the current of snail? How about the breath of rest, the smile of appreciation? How about deep rest?

That is the natural pace of my August, watching, listening and wondering.
Oh, right, I have some harvesting I ought to do... I will get to it eventually
Perhaps when the eddy circles back around toward that goal. For now, I want to rest a little more. How are you feeling this August? Are there new words you can ascribe to your senses and the receiving of the bounteous now? I would love to hear.