demanding more

“So sometimes one has simply to endure a period of depression for what it may hold of illumination if one can live through it, attentive to what it exposes or demands.”

― May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

***

This is the closest I got to water this summer, except for that one day. That one day when I took a brief 15 minute swim, alone. A summer passed, with me on the shore, yearning but unable to ask for more. I see this so clearly now as summer fades and I walk into autumn. Ask for more I tell myself once again. NO, demand it.

autumn leaves

"For a small child, there is no division between playing and learning, between the things he or she does just for fun and the things that are educational.
The child learns while living, and any part of living that is enjoyable is also play."

- Penelope Leach

***

leaf study with glue 

We head to the park where I set him loose to gather leaves. My job is to hold the bag and oo and ah. A few days later I dump them out, along side some paper, and hand him the glue bottle, and “leave” him to it. Later I ask if he wants to take it home, and he tells me he wants me to have it. I hang it in the kitchen where it will remind me of how lucky I am to “play” with him.

changing seasons

I don't ask for the sights in front of me to change, only the depth of my seeing.
- Mary Oliver

***

We walk the lake, he and the dog trotting ahead of me. I want to notice it all, the signs of summer fading, the signs of autumn ahead.

capsizing

“I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.”

― John O'Donohue

I get caught up in doubt, entangled in “rules” I have contrived in my own head. I back up, and wonder what life might look like if I take off the lifejacket and just let go. Will I sink? I don’t think so. I might capsize, and that might just be enough to entice me back into my life.

***

yum

“The most indispensable ingredient of all good home cooking: love for those you are cooking for”
- Sophia Loren

If that is the truth then those I love must feel as if I have turned my back on them.
I lay in bed each morning thinking about what to fix for dinner wishing instead that I was cooking up something fun to do with the day ahead. I am fully aware that this is my fault, having bought into the notion that food ≈ love. But I am learning to step out of this role with these beautiful words . . . “I am not cooking tonight.” The world does not stop, nor does he complain. And on those days that I fix him one of his favorite meals - he always says yum!

***

prelude

“Ah, September! You are the doorway to the season that awakens my soul...
but I must confess that I love you only because you are a prelude to my beloved October.”

― Peggy Toney Horton

through the branches

The tiny berries on the barberry bushes are starting to form. I read that the berries are edible, used for tea or maybe jam and have health benefits. I can’t image harvesting them as they are so tiny and surrounded nasty long thorns. But they make a beautiful backdrop for the green maple leaves as I hunt for any sign that autumn has arrived.

the back yard

“You can journey to the ends of the earth in search of success, but if you’re lucky, you will discover happiness in your own backyard.”

- Russell Conwell

The apples are few on our two trees this year. They follow the path of the other fruit baring trees in our yard. Unlike a row of carrots or a few tomato plants, they take more care, and attention, both things I am just not willing to give any more. Instead I give them whole heartedly to the wildlife in our backyard. In hopes that the fallen fruit might help them through the cold months ahead.

***