Fall Falling Leaves Moon
And so the leaves turn color and begin to fall. What was first a few golden river birch leaves has now become russet Amur maples, reddening oaks, the fiery leaves of the euonymus now waving against the steady greens of the spruce and the pines, waving and loosening, taking to flight, filling the blue sky with spirals of flames and sunsets. The Ojibway named this moon well.
Met with friend Mark Odegard this morning. Talking about turning 70, sailing out beyond middle age. He said he’d disregarded recent birthdays, but 70. Well. Though it’s still 2 and a half years away for me, I see it as a trailhead birthday. From 70 that long final walk begins.
Mark’s helping us put together a booklet of pictures for folks who look at the property, a take-away to go with the wild grape jam and/or jar of honey from Artemis Hives. It’s so hard to see our property without spending a year, watching the seasons come and go, experiencing the raucous symphony as perennial flowers rise, bloom and die back, vegetable push up and mature, are harvested. The orchard blooms, then fruits. The bees buzz around working throughout the growing season. In fall the firepit becomes a central spot with bonfires and smoke. This is a four-season place.
