Fall is lasting forever and ever. Each time I go outside to run errands or to walk around the block, I slow down to gaze at specific trees, at showers of leaves, at green gardens blanketed with fuchsia and gold. Tim and I took the dogs to the park today ~ dusk was afoot. It was that time of late afternoon slanted sunlight, when things glow and the woods are magical. We wandered and looked.
My yam-butternut squash-carrot-beet soup turned out pink, delicious. The beets and carrots were the last pulled from our garden. I'm dreaming of next year's plantings ~ more sunflowers (to tempt in those charming goldfinches) and zinnias for cutting, one or two in a jar at a time.
But meanwhile I'm enjoying what's here. I keep making little drawings of my tea whenever I buy a tea out at lunch or wherever, and then sew them into my journal, which is starting to become more of a collection-book of colors and shapes than written thoughts.
I've had such a great summer and fall but I'm so looking forward to winter. To going inward, being cozy, writing, visiting cafes, dressing warmly ~ the ritual of hot tea, of warm bread, of crisp walks in cleansing air. Of snowfalls, a wood stove, morning sun, and the silhouettes of hawks in bare trees. To filling my journal, mulled cider, mums and moons and winter Polaroids!
*the journal of the lovely Susan Wooldridge
**my own journal from this week