Snow on the mountains this week and again here in the yard today. Clearly we have crossed that line, though the post-peak season here in Vermont is often long and gorgeous in its own right.
Every day I am mindful of the season we are leaving and the beauty of what’s to come. A last tomato, glorious Monkshood flowers and ice on the birdbath—”the ordinary, the common, the very drab, the daily presentations.”
As Mary Oliver suggests, it is so easy “to lose myself in this soft world …”
And this week the full moon setting in the early morning sky behind the now bare trees…
…and then the morning sun—on the clouds in the west, such a playful trick when it happens that way—”the untrimmable light of the world.”