The world is not linear; it is circular, always breathing in and out, a rhythmn, a pulsing, wheither we choose to realise it or not.
This week marks the return of autumn here on Delmarva, and it was quick, harsh, and in the breadth of a week.
I guess I was in denial. I love my beach day. I put on my trusty black bathing suit and filled my beach bag with oils and books, and when I settled in my chair this Sunday, it took me an hour to register that the air was chill and I needed a sweatshirt.
I picked up my things and felt sorrow pass through me like the waves on the beach. Time to say goodbye, to summer.
Now I will look forward to sweaters, boots, and autumn leaves.
Life Rambles.
Books
- The Presence Process
1 comment:
At times does not the wave of perception pass by, memory of frame etched as if a fog? Where sorrow shivers at your beach also does your will to burn anew; laying forth a new season, not caring if the spiral of the shell holds your booted march. Whatever drives your Age drives also the claw of goodbye. The soft touch of color invites your Autumn to tree itself. You know what the bonfire warms and your passion lights no cinder to leaves that offer you comfort. The promise of this season can be held safe, indeed all seasons hold much.
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