I'm looking out of our front window. From here there is a sweet view of the little town we live in, but more importantly of the trees that tower above it. The leaves are hanging, like on a humid day, only it is a light, cool day and they are drying. A Winnie-the-Pooh day, as I call the days when the sun shines golden on the trees and the clouds are like marshmallowy cotton clumps in the sky. Hints of orange are peaking through the domineering green on a lone tree toward the middle of the village.
Certainly it isn't Autumn yet, but Summer is starting to bind itself off. It is stitching itself up, preparing for completion.
A mix of excitement and melancholy. Feelings that I learned from years and years of back to school jitters?
Either way, this seasonal shift is timely, and necessary, and reflective of everything I feel changing in my own little world. It is comforting to look out at nature, such a steady reminder that I am never alone in my shifting, my ever evolving rhythm, even the monotony of responsibility. Deep down, I know everyone else is living with this reality.
There are simply things we must do.
And there are eras we have to let go of.
Sometimes we all must stitch up an experience in our life, bring it to its fullness and then completion. It is still useful to us. The good times, they comfort us, the challenging times, they recycle themselves into spines of steel or passion for a cause. . . . .both have to be completed, though.
Neither can last forever.
They have to become part of the past.
Like this beautiful summer.
School starts next Tuesday in our community and the ease of Summer is being traded for the rhythm of the School-day world so many of us choose to be a part of.
I am not at all clear about where I am in my life right now. I am not even clear about the recent past. What has this been about?
I know that it is good. Regardless of the struggle, it is good.
The horizon bears sure signs of more direction and more evolution.
I am excited. I am prepared, but, Oh, the melancholy of "farewell old self."
There is something magical and mysterious about this week. With the Blue Moon just two days away, how could it not be?
Maybe she has a secret to tell me. . . . .