When an animal, a rabbit, say, beds down in a protecting fencerow, the weight and warmth of his curled body leaves a mirroring mark upon the ground. The grasses often appear to have been woven into a birdlike nest, and perhaps were indeed caught and pulled around by the delicate claws as he turned in a circle before subsiding into rest. This soft bowl in the grasses, this body-formed evidence of hare, has a name, an obsolete but beautiful word: meuse. (Enticingly close to Muse, daughter of Memory, and source of inspiration.) Each of us leaves evidence on the earth that in various ways bears our form.
Full and ever-present, tonight’s moon shines across the sky. A gift that comes with the beauty of autumn.
Transition seasons hold a certain truth about life. The spring brings the promise of renewal and new birth. Its bright color and gentle warmth draws creation out, emboldened and ready to explore. All timidness is thrown aside, when this energy of new life arrives.
The fall brings with it a quiet wisdom. It comes resolved to share its knowledge through images filled with color and the arrival of cooler air. There is no hesitation. Fall calls for proud attention as it prepares for winter’s rest.
The moon is shining bright – announcing this time of change. It will not hide or shrink as evening moves into night. This golden moon comes closer catching our attention as it fills the sky.
Fall’s beauty, be it day or night, invites us all to slow down and offer thanks. As creation begins to shed its summer skin, we are given the chance to be grateful. For all that has been and all that will be – may we take this time to give thanks in the glow of October’s moon.
The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. No, not at all. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass wherever you may be.
Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here. –
So much of this world is in turmoil. Both far away and very near. Take care not to let it consume you. Along with turmoil there can be a far-reaching sense of scarcity. There are those who have more than they could ever need and others who have nothing. The images before us are scary and often heart-breaking.
We have little ‘control’ over the BIG picture. But in the streets where we live, there we can make a difference. There we can help transform the fear of scarcity into the peace of abundance. As we live in faith – knowing that ‘what we need is here’, may seeds of hope be planted.