“There is a Season. . . “

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The “crack of dawn” comes a lot earlier than it used too.  I wake with light, by nature, and unless it is raining, I am ready to “find my day.”  It is early now, and the light is still soft at the rabbit patch.  The old trees are full of new leaves now so I watch the shade and sunlight duel for territory.  The effect is charming and I remember that I  love light and shadow too.

Today, I will stop by the town of Windsor, on the way to Elizabeth City.  It is a small town, about twenty minutes from here.  A cousin “threw a family reunion together”- at the last minute.  Her daughter says “it is her nature to do such things”.  Cousin Dotsie, will not bother herself with mighty plans and details-but   I expect it to turn out as if she did.  I have a cousin from New York that is down and I think that inspired Cousin Dotsie’ idea.

I have not been to Elizabeth City in three weeks.  I have missed strolling the historical river village with Lyla.  I know that the mock orange is surely done blooming, but I bet the cocky mockingbird is still singing.  We may see young bunnies.  Elizabeth City helped inspire the name ‘Rabbit Patch”.  I have never seen so many rabbits in any one town.  They are not at all skittish, like their country cousins.  Some one dear to me there, claims a mother rabbit was nursing babies in his yard last year-and I believe him.  Lyla and I get practically close enough to the rabbits to introduce ourselves properly as we walk in the evening!  I have never heard any of the residents  of Riverside speak a word against the rabbit community-but I notice, they do not grow strawberries there.

I am packing light today, as this is a short visit.  Usually, I cook meals ahead of time for Kyle and Christian, but this time they are left to their own primative devices.  They will probably scramble eggs.  I will leave the house in good order as usual, excepting the wide hall, where the roof is being repaired.  There is a hammer and a crowbar on the shelf beside my books and plant-and a large pile of debris in the floor.    The yard needs mowing too, but I am “throwing caution to the wind”, and spending time with loved ones, instead , this week end.  I am older now, and would rather watch rabbits with Lyla, than most things.

Life has a way of helping us define, without great effort, what we truly love.  There really is a “time for every season” as Solomon wrote.  I am at a place, never imagined in my youth.  I thought “old people grew flowers, because that is about all they could do”.  Now I know, old people grow flowers because it is beautiful to do so.  In youth, we gather, and in time we “cast away” what doesn’t matter-we “break down” what we once thought was good and we “build up” what we found was of value.  Now we “laugh and dance” in authentic joy -and “we heal” as we need to.   We have learned full well, that “all that glitters is not gold.”  The other day, I remembered a fancy stereo system, that I had actually made payments on.  I do not know what became of it . . . however I know which book has pressed violets and  sweet gum leaves in it,  gathered when Brant and I walked in the woods, now decades ago. I have a basket of rocks and twigs that Tres collected -they did not get  “cast out” as I moved about.

And so, in light of this . . the grass can grow as it pleases, this weekend.  It is the “season to love”, after all, as well. 

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28 thoughts on ““There is a Season. . . “

  1. I can relate to this “season” of our life. All that glitters is not gold, is true…and I grow flowers because they are beautiful and put me in touch with mother nature. I am in the process of “casting off” all those material things I thought were gold. My few treasures are my photo albums and handmade gifts from family and friends. Treasured memories of times gone by. As always, thank you for sharing your journey through the Rabbit Patch!

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  2. This is a great season of life to be in. I love the thought of your basket of things your kids collected. I have a box full of rocks of various colors, shapes and sizes. The boys used to come home with them in their pockets from wherever they had wandered that day.

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  3. If I had to pick one word to apply to your posts, it would be serenity. I’m sure my breathing and heart rate go down as I savor your thoughts for the day. As to the crack of dawn, I’m sure in our home the sound is not a crack, but rather a creak — creaking bones greeting the day.

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  4. Elizabeth City?/ North Carolina??? We have family there..Callaways…..do you know of them? ( some are no longer with us )
    Rocks…What is it about rocks. I have a container full of rocks my grand son collected when he stayed with us while his mom was in school. Don’t think I’ll ever get rid of them.
    And yes, I’m in that season too .

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    1. Thank you for stopping by-I will check with Wills’ mom about the Callaways, as she is a native. If she knows them=I plan to say hello to them-I will let you know. It is funny to think how many of us have a few rocks in the house! ha!

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    2. I checked with my local friend and she remembers Mr. Callaway fondly. He had quite a good reputation as a band director and she said they were a friendly family-well liked by all. She said they had a son, but thinks he have moved away. Somehow, it made me happy to share this connection .

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  5. As we get older we do seem to gravitate to the non-material things of life especially family, friends … spending ‘time’ with those we love… and sometimes just letting the grass grow long, or leaving undone those things that will always wait for you at a later time. ..

    Glad that you’re going to have a lovely weekend… Diane.

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  6. I understand. I have bags full of acorns and leaves that Little Bit and I have gathered over the years. Lovely post. I love what you said about the grass. Hope you have a lovely visit among your family and the bunnies.

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      1. I hope think of you and Miss Lyla walking the blocks, looking for birds and bunnies. And, imagine you sitting at your Morning table in your beautiful home, with Christopher Robin nearby.

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