The gifts present and to come

This is a photo of the door that leads from my bedroom
onto the deck on the back of my house.
It is when I stand in this spot
that I first see autumn.

By the time that I took this particular photo last year,
the tree on the left had already released her green
to turn to rust, amber and olive
and then to drift to the ground.
But, just a few weeks before, if the bare tree just to the left is still dressed in foliage,
there is a small circle created at the top of the canopy of these trees
and THAT is where I first see fall.
That little orb
encircles the first autumn color in my world …
and then I know: she is near.

Last week, the mornings were cooler,
the humidity lower,
the breeze brisker.

The door is not yet open,
but a hand is poised with the handle turned
that the door may soon be open
for fall to flood our lives with color and cooler temps.

Here and there, I see the tell-tale signs
that she is near.

Somehow, autumn is my New Year. It is in autumn that reflect on the speed of the last year and those things that have passed of late. The coming of the still and quiet nears and we prepare to rest. Fall brings a slowing down of
the pace,
the mind,
the spirit
and the soul.

And I settle.

Like never before, contentment permeates my being.
Though turmoil rolls and boils in the relationships in my world
and I ache … yet, I am powerless.

While I wonder about the future … ponder the details ….
how God will provide and I question what my world will look like …
I am not fretful.

We walk through our days, one step at a time.
I try my best to keep our world quiet.
Joy & I go to bed at eight.

Our activities away from home during the week are limited and
we eat out seldom …
only venturing to a restaurant
when we might be seated and served by sweet Glory at her place of employment.

We stay home, sit still, intentional to be quiet.

Trees molt
leaves gather
critters hide
autumn falls
and winter draws nigh.

And as I embrace these last smatterings of heat,
enjoy this last bit of humidity
dawdle in what is left of summer,
I remember a good year in all of its beauty
and the days of late.

With the richest of blessings filling my life,
I count ….

343. kayaks floating upon swift water and strong arms and backs
344. endurance
345. a lingering itch that reminds me of past fun
346. belly laughs, hardware and The Swan
347.  the full moon, round and bright and quiet still nights
348. shrimp skin left from a past meal
349. thunderstorms dumping water upon fire rings still aglow
350. a van filled with sand and salty dampness
351. the smell of muggy bathing suits, moist towels, and sunscreen
352. eleven year old’s footprints on the windshield of a van
353. bench seats and captains chairs sitting in the house
that the van can be filled with tents, bikes and sleeping bags
354. dreams of Hunting Island and anticipation of fun to come
355. basking in grace
356. tattoos that proclaim individual style
357. anecdotes to teach us lessons
358. friendships that stir up passion because they matter
359. loving much
360. learning not to be an enabler
361. a black tee that proclaims “celebrate”
362. the loving arms of a grand father
363. a pontoon boat and hair blowing wild in the wind


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