The past many mornings now there is a deep coolness that has penetrated the air as i walk across the yard to my special magical fairy forest between and around my two old wise aspens. The aspens themselves have that small tell tale patch of yellow amongst the green leaves. It’s fascinating to watch the yellow as it spreads around the valley behind my house. It always starts on a tree off in the distance in one neighbor’s yard to the north of me around the beginning of August. Then a few weeks later it hits the other neighbor’s tree to the east. And then finally it comes to my tree.
I am so womb minded that the vision came to me that this may be how the endometrial lining sheds in our uterus. A small section starts to pull back then another across the way and slowly all the leaves fall just like our beautiful uterine lining…shedding and bringing the essence of the season into the time of composting and renewing.
But there is this really interesting thing that happens on just a few days in the Fall. It’s on those days where you wake up and the air is not cool, it’s unseasonably warm! It hangs in the air in a strange manner. It feels unfit for the rest of everything transforming around. And there is a stagnant quality that begs for this sense of nostalgia.
I look around and suddenly see the many spider webs and spiders with giant bellies full of babies. The birds are making some wild songs – the last that I will hear of the season before they disappear for the most part for the winter months. This longing for this lively noise, the fragrant blooms. They are still all around me, but there is a sense that they are already gone and am not ready to say goodbye. My heart fills with a slightly sad swelling of huge gratitude for what have experienced this beautiful summer season. It’s like my body is preparing for that final goodbye which is simply weeks away. .
I’ll have to toss the spring seeds around the yard. Pluck the beautifully cool calendula seeds to save for next year. Harvest the comfrey leaves. Figure out which weeds I feel like duking it out with before they all die anyway…and continue my prayers that the late squashes and melons I plant bear something delicious for me to carry into the kitchen and devour.
Blessings Mother Earth for all of your bounty. Blessings beautiful insects, birds and all winged ones. Blessings to our earth’s minerals and bountiful waters. Blessings to all the lovely insects who have provided a beautiful sound bath all season. Blessings to the gorgeous bees that fertilized all the flowers. Blessings to my Mother and Father aspen trees…to the elemental families. Blessings to the larger animals in and around our land. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I am so grateful to live on this magical land on Wyoming. May you continue compressing me into a Diamond that will shining steward of this land.
