Begin the hours of this day slow,
Make the day seem to us less brief...
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst...
~Robert Frost
I spend a lot of time at the end of winter desperately trying to find the beginning of spring. It is a slow, gradual process that eludes the calendar. But if I look carefully, nature will show me where she's going, and will soon be screaming her invitation to come out and play. I've watched long enough to count on this.
Likewise, the beginning of fall has it's silent progression. It's hard to discern the dissipation of daylight moments. But then one day, you look up and daylight is gone before you're ready.
After months of hot and humid, cool and wet come as a welcome surprise and a winter warning. Of course fall has it's trumpet blare recessional, too. Most all of us enjoy the relief from the heat, and embrace the cool colors and rich gifts of the harvest. But I always grumble at the loss of the long light, replaced by the long shadow.
This winter, I am committed to enjoy every incremental moment into fall, and then into our Seasonally Affected Quarter. Why? Because I am increasingly aware of the tick of the mortality clock, and don't want to wish any precious days away. Better to look back and appreciate.
There are plenty of good things to revisit. This has been a really good fall season, for me and for the nursery. Plant sales have been good overall. Customers have been wonderfully engaged and enthusiastic. I love that camaraderie. And my plant friends have been so generous with their time and energy and adventurous spirit that I have seen a number of great gardens and visited with a number of incredible experts for fun and for inspiration.
I know I spend a lot of time dreading and hiding from the coming short day, cold day period. But this year, let's not call it winter. Let's call it an opportunity to catch up on all those things I never have time for. I've been reading some again, and can't wait for more time for that. I have a huge stack of books that deserves more than an occasional dusting.
But there's another reason to savor the coming cold days with a warm heart: My big girl has her own new life that will emerge just at the edge of spring. It will be the full circle end and beginning again, from "puddle- wonderful"(1) to a land "enchant(ed) with amethyst".
"Turn Around"
Where are you going, my little one, little one
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you're two, turn around and you're four
Turn around and you're a young girl going out of my door
Turn around, turn around
Turn around and you're a young girl going out of my door
Where are you going, my little one, little one
Little dirndls and petticoats, where have you gone?
Turn around and you're tiny, turn around and you're grown
Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own
Turn around, turn around
Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own
Turn around, turn around
Turn around and you're the young girl going out of the door
Where are you going, my little one, little one
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you're two, turn around and you're four
Turn around and you're a young girl going out of my door
Turn around, turn around
Turn around and you're a young girl going out of my door
Where are you going, my little one, little one
Little dirndls and petticoats, where have you gone?
Turn around and you're tiny, turn around and you're grown
Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own
Turn around, turn around
Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own
Turn around, turn around
Turn around and you're the young girl going out of the door
Where are you going, my little one, little one
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Malvina Reynolds
(1) in Just e.e. cummings
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