Sitting- back door open drinking coffee.

I listen to insects conversing

talking about how summer is winding down,

discussions of what comes next, it’s been a good summer, it’s been nice knowing you, and

I hope we meet again.

The air feels different, looks different, and is different.

Nuts falling to earth, no haze of hot humid summer.

Cool mornings, clear skies, clouds so beautiful it takes your breath,

All signaling fall will be here soon with her own magic-

Leaves showing their true colors without the camouflage of chlorophyll, cooler temperatures,

and bathing in leaves as they fall to earth.

I so look forward to it.

Memories are snippets of time gone by and live only in our minds.

Times of both pure happiness and utter devastation

By reflecting on each, by accepting each, do we clearly see what formed us.

Lightning and thunder rip through our lives, shaping how we treat the world.

Survival requires an unrivaled inner strength- thus empathy is born.

Sun, moon, and stars enter our lives to show us what pure joy feels like.

Lion’s share of life is lived between extremes. Thus the fascination with mundane daily life.

When a loved one dies- where does the love go?

It’s in the small gestures of kindness we do for strangers. Holding doors, letting people in in traffic,

It’s in the way we love our families- our children, grandchildren, and friends who are like family.

It’s in the gardens we tend- the roses, tomatoes, tulips, and all the rest.

It’s in the food we cook- full of love and goodness.

It’s in the small parts of life, and I figure it fills the voids left behind by the loss of our loved ones.

Both big spaces and small, it’s in all the important parts of us. Love fills all the cracks.

I gave you everything-

children, trust, love, my heart, and faith that you’d always be there.

You took it all and threw it away like yesterday’s trash.

At the time I was pretty numb, but now I wonder when

it all began. You were hardly present when I buried my father.

Absent for so much of my life and our son’s life.

You weren’t there as I mourned the loss of two of our children.

I wonder now if you ever deserved me. I realize that you did not.

You weren’t ready for the strength of my love.

Women are mountains

Strong and immovable

Wiser with time.

Care worn, yet standing strong-

Weighed by loss untold,

yet with spirits intact.

The wisdom of mountain streams

Flows through us- we choose some,

and let the remainder drift away.

Passing seasons and fleeting storms, leave

imprints on hearts weathered as stones.

Strong, sturdy, and solid.

I’ve been thinking quite a lot lately about the vividness of fall. I’m not sure of another way to describe it. You know the startling blueness of the sky, the glorious golds of goldenrod, the passionate purples of ironweed, and a bit later, the unparalleled colors of the leaves. I’m often awed by nature and all she provides, but spring and fall leave me feeling grateful. Living in the mountains of East Tennessee is a gift I humbly accept. I then wonder, if we, in the autumn of our lives are more vivid? Do we show all our true selves and our wisdom and beauty to the world? Are we more courageous than ever? We certainly should be.

I can’t imagine a world without me in it

Without my courage and determination

Without my patience

Without my love for nature

Without my sense of humor

Without my passion for dogs and cats

Without my eye for beauty and love of color

Without my love for family and friends.

I can’t imagine that life will go on without my gifts,

But, I know it will happen, and I just can’t imagine…

While planting in my shade garden- (it’s a good time to reflect)-

I realized that it has finally filled in and looks like I envisioned when I began planting it.

Planting a garden is faith in action. It’s hope in action. And, I am filled with both.

Last week as I was meandering in the beauty of East Tennessee, I was suddenly struck with

the beauty around me.

I realized I was living in a dream.

Fresh greens contrast with dark evergreens.

Lacy white of dogwoods, redbud’s tender purple, candy tuft, yellow of forsythia,and creeping

phlox add their own bits of alchemy.

Understated wildflowers lining roadsides like they’ve been dropped from above.

All this artistry beneath a sky of azure blue dotted with fleecy white clouds.

I’m living in a dream and know how lucky I am.