In the deep fall
don't you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind?
~ Mary Oliver, excerpt from Song for Autumn
in New and Selected Poems, Volume Two
This weekend, right on perfect queue, the turn of the calendar ushered in a stretch of cool and rainy days, and with it - some sniffles too. Just the right excuse slow it down, bring it in, and draw a little bit closer.
Saying goodbye to my favorite time of year always carries a little bit of melancholy for me. But as that calendar turns, the air does shift, and I do my best to gracefully shift along with it. And just as soon as we are in it, I find myself exhaling into the comfort of these days. After the full lightness of summer, before the sparse simplicity of winter...there is the simple comfort of home and hearth right now.
On days like these: the baby can be down long enough to perfect her roll - front to back, back to front and over and over again; a favorite soup is made for likely the last time this season; little ones pick up handwork long forgotten about over the busyness of summer, remembering with all their might just exactly how to do it; scissors, paper, pen, needles - the tools of our time - are within reach everywhere we go; we all settle into the feeling of an extra layer on our body once again; and we gather around the first fire, reacqanting ourselves with it and our place around it.
These kinds of days are simple and good. And full of the comfort that is October.
. . . . . . . .
(I'm happy to be once again spending some time at Habit this month, amidst some lovely company. Please visit if you can!)
