As evenings cool down, afternoon shadows gradually grow longer and my glance out the back window is met with newly coloured leaves along the walking path ~ autumn is making her way toward us.
Today a brave squirrel even ventured up on our back deck’s potted-garden to more closely inspect the fading tomato, pea and bean plants for remnants of something to snatch for himself…before a forthcoming frost steals his last hopes before hibernation. Timing decreed that I was able to photograph the cute little thief, who seemed to even actually strike a cheeky pose for me. Unfortunately for the furry fellow, my youngest daughter had already raided the plants of their daily offerings. We planted the vegetables (alongside some mint and coriander) last spring, more as a way of just helping our daughters treasure the experiences of planting, nurturing, picking and eating than to really substantially sustain ourselves for a season with home-grown veggies. In the end, out little terrace garden yielded a few green peppers, some raw peas and beans (to snack on while playing out in the sand-box), endless cups of delightful mint tea and the priceless joy of seeing our little daughter tell her friends one sunny summer afternoon (with all the pomp and posh pride of a botany professor ), “…and these leaves are cilantro…you can eat them!” There were “oooos” and “ahhhs” from the neighbouring children as they all started munching like bunnies on the fragrant leaves, as if they’d discovered some free, magical foliage that would neither poison them or get them in trouble with a dentist.
As the last post naturally explains my absence from this blog during the past many months, I will not go into details at this time about my spring and summer any more than to say a heartfelt and very gracious “thank you” to all of you who have been flooding me with your condolences, prayers and support. Following my public blog posting here in March, I continued writing extensively ~ though exclusively out of a need for private personal expression. It has been my habit since 1988 to keep a journal. Normally the process of filling one such book with poetry ideas, sketches and daily thoughts takes me about twelve months. During my mother’s last days, however, I filled a journal in just five weeks ~ giving an indication of just how necessary and important that time away from public writing was for me.
There is no doubt that much of what I learned during those days will find its way into my future posts, poems and songs ~ but for now (as I process those words, emotions and experiences) let me breathe in the new night air of autumn and exhale this short post to let you all know I am well and still sipping at simplicitea….as the new name of this blog ~ and my forthcoming album ~ suggest.