If you rake fallen leaves into a pile and then examine them, you will see that each one shows a consummately clean break at the same place near the base of the stem. The fall of leaves is highly choreographed: First the green pigments are pulled back behind the narrow row of cells marking the border between stem and branch. Then, on the mysteriously appointed day, this row of cells is dehydrated and becomes weak and brittle. The weight of the leaf is now sufficient to bend and snap it from the branch. It takes a tree only a week to discard its entire year’s work, cast off like a dress barely worn but too unfashionable for further use. Can you imagine throwing away all of your possessions once a year because you are secure in your expectation that you will be able to replace them in a matter of weeks? These brave trees lay all of their earthly treasures on the soil, where moth and rust doth immediately corrupt. They know better than all the saints and martyrs put together exactly how to store next year’s treasure in Heaven, where the heart shall be also. ~ Hope Jahren (Lab Girl)
electron micrograph of a varicella virus Public Health Image Library Centers for Disease Control & Prevention
When our daughter Larisa was seven weeks old her two older brothers, ages 3 and 5, came down with chicken pox. This was before a vaccine for the disease was available. Not to worry, said their pediatrician. Because I was breast-feeding her my own immunity would protect her. But, a couple of days later, a few poxes appeared on her tiny little body.
The pediatrician examined her and scratched his head. He had never seen a case like this before. He said he couldn’t know for sure if this mild case of chicken pox would offer her immunity in the future. Years later, when Larisa was pregnant with Katherine, she was tested and did have chicken pox antibodies, removing any lingering uncertainty about her immunity.
But the story wasn’t over! Yesterday we got a phone call from Larisa who had just been to the doctor and had been diagnosed with shingles! Of all things! As far as I knew most people who get shingles are over 60 but she’s still in her 30s. And almost 8 months pregnant. But the doctor assures her that shingles poses no danger to the baby, even though chicken pox and shingles are caused by the same virus. (Chicken pox would have been dangerous.) Which tells me that they must have seen cases like hers before.
I haven’t posted in a while because first, I was very cranky about the relentless heat and humidity waves, and then, we were very busy with preparing for and traveling to Kentucky for our niece’s wedding and the family reunion immediately following. And now we’re getting ready to go down to North Carolina to help out. But I do have much to write about and hope to do so soon.
The good news is that autumn weather has finally arrived here and my mood is much improved!!! 🙂
Practicing mindfulness of gratitude consistently leads to a direct experience of being connected to life and the realization that there is a larger context in which your personal story is unfolding. Being relieved of the endless wants and worries of your life’s drama, even temporarily, is liberating. Cultivating thankfulness for being part of life blossoms into a feeling of being blessed, not in the sense of winning the lottery, but in a more refined appreciation for the interdependent nature of life. It also elicits feelings of generosity, which create further joy. Gratitude can soften a heart that has become too guarded, and it builds the capacity for forgiveness, which creates the clarity of mind that is ideal for spiritual development. ~ Phillip Moffitt (Yoga Journal, July-August 2002)
In October my sister and I spent a couple of nights at the Nauset Knoll Motor Lodge in Orleans on Cape Cod. The big draw was that the motel had a short path to Nauset Beach, a ten mile stretch of seashore facing the open Atlantic. We could hear the waves from our motel room. Pure joy!
eternity
Wildlife sightings: from the road we saw wild turkeys and a coyote; hopping across our path to the beach we saw a bunny; and at the beach we saw gulls of course, and a little plover running along the water’s edge, and a seal bobbing in the waves.
parallax
One afternoon we spent two hours meandering on the beach. Nothing but sand, sea and sky as far as our eyes could see. Beverly, the geologist, was collecting stones, and I was taking pictures. And contemplating the universe, the oneness of all things.
Being awake. Resting in the happening of this moment, exactly as it is. Relaxing the need to understand or to make things different than they are. Opening the heart. Just this — right here, right now. ~ Joan Tollifson (Resting in the Happening of this Moment)
posing
infinity
We already have everything we need. There is no need for self-improvement. All these trips that we lay on ourselves — the heavy-duty fearing that we’re bad and hoping that we’re good, the identities that we so dearly cling to, the rage, the jealousy and the addictions of all kinds — never touch our basic wealth. They are like clouds that temporarily block the sun. But all the time our warmth and brilliance are right here. This is who we really are. We are one blink of an eye away from being fully awake. ~ Pema Chödrön (Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living)
yawning (no sound)
dune grass
Few places on the earth possess a nature so powerful and so unspoiled that it would remind anyone living in a concrete world that he once belonged to a pre-industrial civilization. ~ Liv Ullmann (Changing)
adolescent gull
ebb and flow
a young gull
sandscape
weather worn
windswept
It was windy and chilly and we were bundled up well. I even wore my mittens when I was not taking pictures. But eventually it was time to go back to our room and get ready for dinner. So back up the path to the motel. Our window was the one on the right in the white section of the building. There are only 12 rooms. A quiet, beautiful, windswept place to stay.
view of our room from the path leading to the beach Nauset Knoll Motor Lodge, Orleans, Massachusetts
view from our room, a hill with a path through the brambles, the parking lot and the beach are between the lawn and the water
More favorites from this year’s Wee Faerie Village at the Florence Griswold Museum in Old Lyme, Connecticut.
“Tilly’s Tea Room” by Cheryl Poirier, Lisa Reneson & Tammi Flynn 10.12.17 ~ Old Lyme, Connecticut
“The Sugar Crumb Faerie Bakery” by Jessica Zydeek
“Faerieville Sweet Shoppe & Dandy Candy Emporium” by Billie Tannen & Robert Nielsen
Of course there were many more places in this fairy village but unfortunately I cannot include them all. It was difficult to even limit my favorites to two posts. 🙂 To view my pictures from past Wee Faerie Villages click on “Florence Griswold” in the categories below.
“Underwater Academy for Seafaeries” by Students from the Deep River Elementary School Led by Art Teacher Diana DeWolf-Carfi 10.12.17 ~ Old Lyme, Connecticut
The theme of this year’s Wee Faerie Village at the Florence Griswold Museum in Old Lyme is Faerieville, U.S.A. I think we spent the most time mesmerized at the Underwater Academy for Seafaeries!
Sadly, autumn seems to be very late in arriving this year. But Janet and I stopped for lunch at the museum’s Café Flo, and since it was chilly and we weren’t sitting in the sun this time around, we had two cups each of mulled warm apple cider.
“Faerieville Wind Farm” by Tom & Kristin Vernon
Can you feel the wind blow? Even the wee smallest of towns requires more power than the resident fireflies can provide, so these fairies, in keeping with changing economic times, retrofitted one of their ancient grain-grinding windmills to be a power plant that turns wind into energy. The other two windmills continue to work in their traditional function; one for grinding grain for faerie bread and the other to pump the water from the river to all the homes and businesses in Faerieville. Our motto: When the wind blows, we all win.
Lieutenant River
“Faerieville Depot” by Linda Turner & Gary Urbanik
One never knows when a fairy might appear!
Decorating with nature
“’A Little Birdie Told Me’ Bird Shop” by Madeline Kwasniewski & Tom Donnelly
Come, ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of Harvest-home! All is safely gathered in, Ere the winter storms begin. ~ Henry Alford (The Poetical Works of Henry Alford)
