Sleepers Awake!
Microseasons Nos. 49 & 50, October 8-12, 13-17
This is a strange time in the Mysterious Clockwork that moves the seasons-- a time both ancient and immediate.
Hours of daylight are predictable to the second now, yet the wild palettes in the trees are new creations every day. Each leaf reveals a painting that’s been hidden all along.
You and I may find ourselves in changeable weather with sudden gusty winds. Dark mornings of soaking rain are followed by a sloshy brightness. The rain doesn’t keep us from venturing out. We wouldn’t want to miss the freshly washed forest, all saturated and glowing. If our boots get muddy, it’s been an especially beautiful hike.
What’s calling to you in your part of the planet today?
We each wander down our own bright hallways.
Microseasons stack neatly upon one another. Layer upon layer of time. So many bonfires, train whistles, hidden treasure chests and keys are waiting to be rediscovered between the pages of our memory-books.
North Carolina holds onto ancient layers. It was not visited by the glaciers that carved other regions to the north. In the fall it’s covered in moss, embellished with mushrooms, and tended by kindly little gnomes.
I can’t help it. This time of year has always felt so vivid to me. The forest is a fairytale. It cultivates a spirit of gratitude, imagination and remembrance. I love to walk these paths again and again, listening to the endless stories of Life read by the Beech trees with their gentle eyes.
Dear One, may you feel sheltered and filled with Peace this season. May it be something woven into the fabric of you that no storm can ever blow away.
I hope you find those things that astonish you and help you know how much that you are loved.
I learned not to fear infinity,
The far field, the windy cliffs of forever,
The dying of time in the white light of tomorrow,
The wheel turning away from itself,
The sprawl of the wave,
The on-coming water.
Excerpt from The Far Field, by Theodore Roethke
See you in the next microseason,
xo Ann
Child Day! That sounds lovely. Your sacrifice in giving your daughter what she needs right now is so loving. I’m glad you’re also staying aware of what you need, Berkana. Your memories of the forest and “the sky hugging”you are powerful and poetic. I wonder if you might want to write about this feeling in a journal or by making a book of forest poems? This might make the waiting easier for you in this phase of your life.
Your words are beautiful Vanessa. Thank you so much!