Looking for the waning moon tonight, but I haven't seen it yet. In the deepest part of my being, I feel that there is something extra, something more meaningful in the transits of Full Moons that make a change in seasons.  Living in a climate where there is little variation in it's warm and sunny seasons does sound good, even if a little repetitive.   All seasons are about the same length on the calendar, in fact 3 of them are much too short and one is much too long.   Summer, as little of it as there was this year is gone, and in the truly inexplicable fashion of this year, departed with days which were the most summerlike that we have had all season. 

In the changing seasons I find a connection, a continuity, something that reaches back to into times lit by the hearthfires of my ancestors and my imagination.  each has something to look forward to, something different, 

~~Michael Henderson



 

At this time of year when the earth is a vast pantry of ripening fruit, grains and nuts we still rush to gather this bounty together for the coming winter, as our ancestors did though our lives are not usually dependent on it as theirs were.    Here in the snowy woods, one never knows, what one never knows, so a few preparations can turn  a really bad storm, from misery to bearable, or even fun. A foraging trip, probably does more for my soul, more to point  how much I have to be thankful for, than it really does for my winter stores.  The world really is filled with many wonderful things, and a few really rotten ones.
To me, this is a season for giving thanks.  And standing alone under the most crystalline blue skies with falling leaves rustling in the slightest breeze, it is easy to see how thin the veil between worlds is becoming, as the circle of this agricultural year approaches the beginning of next year.  The beautiful colors of the dying leaves,  give me with the certain knowledge that all life is a circle. 

The greenery of summer  begins to change to the reds and golds, bronze and burgandys  of  the last great effort of  Gaia before she slumbers under a blanket of snow, for these colors are there to let us know she hasn't left us all alone , but is in deepest slumber under the dark blue skies and thick blanket of snow and ice, and filled with new life she will awaken.  An image I keep with me on the coldest winter nights.

But for now, I revel in the clear skies, the crisp air and mysterious and beautiful fogs, the vibrant colors that grace even the smallest plants.  And I am grateful, not only for the  harvest, that feeds me. but for the beauty that feeds my soul.

The tiniest details and the widest panorama, each with a place and each in it's  own place. There is so much to be grateful for, and so much to look forward
to, everything  around me tells me that.  

As the veil grows thinner and the days advance until it is time us to draw inward, into our home and into our hearts, taking with use the seeds of ideas, and plans for when Gaia emerges.