I can say it is the morning valley fog or intermittent rain that keeps me at this keyboard, barely looking out the window, but the truth is I have, of late, often felt caught between things. So this is an easy place to be, caught or maybe stuck, but able to feel in control of my electronic world. Between summer and winter, younger and older, a now distant working life and retirement, the bad news of the NYT or the WAPO, between piles of things begging to be done or put off. On and on, this morning I’m willing to say I feel caught between it all.
So it is a good day, this Fall Equinox, to remember the whole planet is in between as well. As it continues the tilt, for us in Vermont, we move away from the sun. Seeds are ripening. Soil is cooling. Birds and insects and so many other living things are moving with the sun. Between here and there, and, as I watch a Ruby-throated Hummingbird feed on the few remaining Jewelweed flowers, looking wet and cold, also exactly in this here and now. The same now that pulls the Monarchs into what is next, feeding on what was.
And then, stuck or not, this little gem shows up in my life, a note from my mother-in-law—corny but so her—from long ago, tucked away in a folder, finding the way to here and now, “But I have today.”