Friday, October 31, 2008

on this cold, dark and rainy All Hallow's eve....

wandering from room to room in the creaky old farmhouse,
Sukey makes sure that all
is well this dark, cold & rainy All Hallow's Eve.
The hour is late.
A good fire is crackling in the kitchen hearth & just one candle is lit.
The wind howls down the old chimney and blows billows of smoke out into the room.
a cold rain pounds against the old farmhouse & rattles the windows...
There came a knock at the old kitchen door.
It blew open with a great gust of wind and rain
sending a swirl of wet leaves into the warm & dark kitchen...
and with it came
please join Sukey at the old Deerfield Farmhouse
for a bit of All Hallow's Eve story telling
later today...

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

an almost sleepy hollow day

It was almost a sleepy hollow day, but now the ghostly mist
that rose up
from the pond early this morning
has faded into the nearly bare trees.
Pale leaves swirl past my windows. I can't help but lay my sewing down and step outside.
The air is chill and the leaves are crisp underfoot.
I made a fire down in the orchard, burning some of the leaf piles
so I can plant bulbs in the orchard gardens.
It's very pleasant,even tho it's grey and dark...
my favorite kind of day.
an almost sleepy hollow day.
Days like these remind me of places and people I love.
I wonder what they might be doing this very minute
as I pile more leaves onto the smoky fire.
I send my thoughts to them as the smoke rises into the air
and swirls around the bare branches
of the old apple trees.
I wonder if my thoughts arrive in a swirl of smoke
to my loved ones...
do they know it's from me?
Wading ankle deep through yellow leaves, hands in my pockets, I feel
renewed and almost giddy.
I walk back
into the warm dark house,
to my chair by the fire.
I'm like a little child looking out of the school room window. I'm bent over my needle work and sew another seam...
I look out at the yellow leaves floating past my windows.
Just one more seam and another knot tied.
I have to lay my sewing down and go for a longer walk through the leaves...
while the air is crisp and chill.
While the light is just right
and the leaves swirl all around me
I love each season but none so much as when fall comes.
There's a peacefulness to it, a serene and quiet time
to enjoy things more slowly.
I hope that you are enjoying this lovely fall as much as possible.

Monday, October 6, 2008

wooded path

~walking into the past~
wooded path into Williamsburg
the autumn wood the aster knows,
the empty nest, the wind that grieves,
the sunlight breaking thro' the shade.
the squirrel chattering overhead,
the timid rabbits lighter tread
among the rustling leaves...
dora read goodall
from the very moment I step onto the broken shell path, the world behind me falls away.
no sounds but for breeze in the trees and sheep in the pasture below.
life moves slowly here
giving way to breathing free, my spirit opens,
hope gathers.
my feet want to fly down the path,
but then I stop and gather it all in ...
wood smoke trailing from a chimney,
the sound of birds chirping in the berry bushes...
this is where my soul lives.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008


Smoke hangs like haze over harvested fields,
The gold of stubble, the brown of turned earth
And you walk under the red light of fall
The scent of fallen apples, the dust of threshed grain
There's the sharp, gentle chill of fall.
Here as we move into the shadows of autumn....
~a verse from the Autumn equinox~
This has been one of the longest summers I've spent since childhood.
the days were achingly beautiful under deep blue skies,
the sight of deer bringing their fawns to live in the fields.
15 pairs of ears and eyes
peeking up over the endless waves of wheat waving in the wind.
no sound but for the hum of crickets, the scent of hot sagebrush and juniper in the breeze
and meadowlarks darting from creek to nest.
the fields seemed to grow overnight, stretching towards the gold pink dawns
drinking up every bit of water we gave them, hot in the mid day sun
cool and wet at dusk.
every field of wheat, every leaf of fragrant tumbling mint and rows of
pungent garlic are harvested.
now safe and sound and under cover.
We sit and rest on the edge of the earth and watch the red sun going down over
mountains on fire.
The deer,now grown, walk gingerly through the stubbled wheat.
another season has passed.
and I am grateful that this summer has been as blue skied and never ending
as those summers we knew as children.