it was the last 60-something degree day in the forecast. from here on out, it’s all in the 50s and 40s. i mean, it is november. “but, but….” the brilliant-fall-day-loving part of me whines. no matter. it is what it is.
we tried to make the most of it. we spent it outside – in our backyard with dogga. we cleaned out the rest of the gardens, leaving all the grasses for critters’ safety and warmth over the winter. we took in the rest of the green cherry tomatoes and pulled the straggly plant. cleared off the other planters on the deck and tucked things away in the garage. sat in the sun in our adirondack chairs. and, when it was time for dogga’s nap, we took a much-needed walk in our ‘hood and along the lake and harbor channel. it was easy to walk miles – sunny with no wind. a perfect coda to the warm fall days we had had in early october.
someday we will chase this weather. when we have a vehicle that is not held together by zip ties or a vehicle that refuses to start at critical moments. it will be the someday that we are not rushing toward – because it will mean that our dogga will be with us in spirit and our hearts will be heavy with his loss. and so, we talk about road trips chasing this weather. we plan how we will check weather reports and apps with little homey places to rent and how we will just take off.
and in the meanwhile – in the meanwhile, we relish every moment here at home.
breck, out back, has decided to succumb – mostly, with the exception of a very few leaves – to late fall. there are aspen leaves all over our yard, which is pretty incredible to us. breck has grown big enough to have a fallen leaf presence on the ground. it brings me back to aspen stands in the woods in the mountains of colorado, to hiking, to babbling down-mountain brooks and high-mountain meadows…things that make me truly happy.
we step outside and there is a certain scent in the air. that leaf-falling woodsy aroma, the one that makes me wistful for the old woods behind my growing-up house, wistful for the planting fields and quiet beaches and apple orchards of long island. wistful for the wildflowers waning in high breck. wistful for the woods that surround the stream we’ve sat in numerous times in aspen, everything quiet around us. yes, the wistfuls have arrived.
and, in the middle of it all – this meanwhile liminal space in time we intimately share with our sweet old dogga – we ground ourselves in the sun – the one that will shine through our treasured aspen tree’s mostly-empty branches, the one that shines on the back fence and glints in our eyes, the one that will glance off the snow and brilliantly light the world, the one that is there even on the dreariest dark days – patiently waiting behind the clouds.
it’s kind of sad to see the warmer days end. we brace for the winter. we’re not really sure about what is to come – on so many levels.
but we will hold tight to the light of this sun and the promise of new each and every day.
*****
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