The Saxons called October Wyn-Monath, or Wine Month.
Ancient Germans called October, Winter fyleth
In honor of the full moon.
In 2020 the golden colors of the Wine Month
leave me feeling drunk.
In my stupor I dream of snowy days
And white snowflakes tumbling down from the sky.
On the trail flowers and ferns testify to the delicate balance of nature throughout the seasons. A wild flower may appear along the path by itself, or you might find it flourishing in bunches. The lone flower may not return the next year, allowing only one chance to appreciate it in the moment.
In the photo you will see a New England Aster. Its deep purple color stands out against the reds and browns of the October landscape.
Tiffany has been having episodic headaches lately, mostly at night. They showed up Wednesday, in the night, an uninvited guest without a welcome, they’ve stayed for five days now, to be exact. In a wild attempt to understand what was happening, like many, Tiffany resorted to Dr. Google, and found out they are genetic, and nothing can cure them. They can only be managed with lifestyle changes, and maybe medication from the doctor. In her research, a Quiz popped up, so she took it. The title was, “If you were to have a job, an occupation to manage migraines, what would you be?” In the final assessment they said she would be a Firefighter. She thought that was perfect, and also hopes the flames have finally been put out, and the embers die as soon as possible.
Deep within this forest sits a white mushroom. Twelve feet in diameter, in the shape of a beautiful salad bowl, created solely by the forces of nature told me: “something is right with the world.”
The supreme good is like water,
which nourishes all things without trying to.
It is content with the low places that people disdain.
Thus it is like the Tao.
In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don’t try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.
When you are content to be simply yourself
and don’t compare or compete,
everybody will respect you and you will respect yourself.
Tao Te Ching
…to live with uncertainty.
…to reflect on the meaning of the past.
… to adapt to differences encountered.
…to understand what that knot in your stomach is saying to you.
…to embrace change and new realities.
…to make loved one’s a priority.
…to ask them for help.
…to cherish Time Un-rushed.
…to see yourself in a boat at sea with others.
…to ride the highs and lows of the waves together.
…to judge the changes in the tide with your companions.
…to continue with new ways of living.
…that we are confronted by a human crisis.
…to understand that crisis may be easier for you than for others.
…what it is we want to change, and to build?
October 17, 2016 at 7:42 pm
A couple is 2.
A few is 3 or 4.
Five is 5, because it’s a round number. It’s five. If you mean 3, 4, 6, 7, etc. you don’t mean five. If you mean 5 you’d say five.
Several is 6, 7, 8, or 9. Because ten is 10. It’s two 5’s. A ten. Ten-spot.
Some is 3 to 175.
First the threading of the needle
that eye nearly invisible
held nearer and farther away,
so the tip of the thread
is a camel through a keyhole,
a rich man
carrying all his belongings
through the Pearly Gates.
But at least near cussing,
you thread the filament
into the orifice. Aha!
The cloth lies on your lap
like an infant in a christening gown,
as smooth under your palm
as your mother’s lost skirts.
The needle slow at first,
jackrabbits straight and true.
The stitching your finger’s mantra.
The finished products of contemplation:
The ties Carver always wears
with his secondhand suits.
And the snickers behind his back.
By Marilyn Nelson
From “Carver a life in poems”
Front Street, Asheville, North Carolina 2001