Blossoms, Blackberries, Bees, Blackbirds and Bats

I woke to a lonely bat having lost his way flying around the living room in swirling circles. He flew out the open door and I wondered if the light hurt his fragile eyes. And however did he get in?

Suddenly, even with the first vestiges of Autumn showing her lovely face, there have been blossoms everywhere. Almost a last delicate push in the waning Indian Summer air, before the trees dress themselves up in bright, brazen colors for a last dance before winter. The air is singing with scent. And a new family of bumblebees arrived today.

The pear and apple trees are lush and so full there are dozens of blackbirds and ravens eating the swollen fruit. One tree was nearly black with the beating and flutter of feathers. I went to pick some fruit and the birds barely moved. Assured, and rightly, that there was plenty to go around.

Sometimes there is so much. So much bounty and beauty that I can barely contain my joy. Something in my chest cracks open, letting it all in.

But for now, it is time to roll the sleeves, don the apron and make a few batches of blackberry lemon cream scones.

Paying Attention

While waiting for a ferry, I watched the people getting off. There were the usual mix of humanity until the very end. A young woman in a red tweed skirt, orange vintage blouse and a jauntily perched plaid cap walked off. She had an English Sheep Dog and a vacuum. It was an old Hoover and she was pulling it along. The dog was leading the way. The hand holding the leash was also holding a small leather bound book that she actually appeared to be reading.

I was so engrossed watching them depart that I nearly missed getting on the ferry.

What was her story? Where had she come from? Where was she going?

I admit I've created a dozen different stories for her. But I am certain none would be as interesting as the truth.

Young Teachers

Yesterday in the cafe garden, a father and his young daughter decided to make a rather extraordinary rock sculpture that belied the laws of physics. He was loving and supportive as she told him exactly how it should be. At one point he told her he thought the rocks would not balance, but she persisted as only a five year old can.

And he trusted her. A small crowd gathered around them and when they stepped away, only when the young artist was completely satisfied, mind you, it was magnificent. Nearly three feet tall and balanced on whimsy and light.

She then dusted off her hands and said it was time for hot cocoa.

Busy as a bee

Lately I've considered the idea that we are becoming human doings rather than human beings. Everyone seems to be getting busier and busier and it is not uncommon for people to double, nay, triple book themselves. Almost as if we could actually do it all. Whatever "it all" might be.

The bees, as busy as they are, do not care for such nonsense. They have their duties and that is all. And somehow that includes drinking nectar and making honey and being part of a community, a hive of consciousness.

There is a great Nina Simone song, "Sugar in my Bowl" where she sings, "I want a little sugar in my bowl. I want a little sweetness down in my soul.." Don't we all long for some sweetness?

Perhaps we might learn a thing or two from the bees and gather up some nectar and make a little honey.

Moon Rise

The full moon rose tonight, a copper colored ball with a touch of sass. Geese flew by honking their joy and a screeching owl, the largest I've ever seen, swooped by my head before ascending to the shadows of the upper branches. A small rabbit fled into the brambles and rocks surrounding the Grandmother Tree and I thought, "Run, little fellow!"

The first fragrance of Fall is in the night air. A little precursor of what is to come as the days begin to shorten and cool. The skin lifts in the chill.

Earlier today I was blowing bubbles with my friends between the pear trees, watching them float over the meadow.

How virginal is the future as it sculps into the next moment. And the next.