Some days require a campfire. I dragged the logs from the pile, split the wood, and poured breath into a fledgling flame. With hopeful glances, I furtively groomed the yard as the coals came to life, and words came slowly to the page.
The pageantry of this season urges stillness like nothing else. There is a rhythm, and it goes like this: First, the sound of rain splashes broadly on surrendering trees, and then (in mid-morning) the water droplets form rock garden patterns in the bowled leaves that have come to rest on the deck—just briefly in this silence--before the chimes signal the winds.
Yes, there is the food . . .
Prince William Sound Shrimp
Pizza Night to Celebrate an Engagement
Soups and stews to warm the
bones before the frost coats
and fall is done.
There are those days that seem to take form from pure kinetic energy. The work you do, the plans you lay bring into motion a day, whole in rejuvenation.
To close, E.E. Cummings