It is the time when garden spiders spin and fog hides the morning like a well kept secret. I am slowly , but surely slipping back into a routine. Going back to work, means I must adhere to a schedule or else I am quickly , but surely sinking. Gone are the Tuesday mornings spent feeding wild geese and farewell to meandering by the “laughing river” in the early afternoon. Picnics and tea parties, likewise. I sorely miss lingering over coffee with Jenny in the mornings. . .but all is not lost. I have found beauty abounds no matter the circumstances.
I get home at a very reasonable hour. I drive through the countryside, past fields, now gilded in gold- and quiet pastures. I come home to a jolly “welcome wagon”. Cash, my boxer acts like my return is the best part of his day. Christopher Robin, my very sweet cat, purrs in contentment. After they greet me, both run to their food bowl and snack. I spur into action. I put on a load of a laundry every day, not long after I walk in the back door. In this way, I never get behind on the washing. Next, I start the supper, planned the day before . I do a few simple chores, saving the heavy cleaning for the week end. This time of the year, that includes mowing. In a fortnight, there will be leaves-a lot of leaves, and small fires in the evening.
This may not be the life, that I dreamed of in my youth, but it is a happy one and I am glad for it. In my youth, I could not have known the satisfaction of a good evening meal on the table nor the happiness in having clean sheets on the beds. I did not think about gardens and flowers. How was I to know, that what I sought to be clear of, would call me back so tenderly . . . that the life my parents had shown me, was so very worthy. . . that “landing on a rabbit patch” would render all sorts of riches that were beyond my “wildest dreams”.
I suspect, all of the business, of downsizing- and therefore facing a new season, has certainly been a factor in my pondering. At first, I felt like I was fourteen again, and life as I knew it, was changing. I felt awkward and unsure of how to proceed. I so love familiar. . .but now, I dare to dream again, this time with a feeling of assurance. Life has a way of defining what matters to you, after all. I tend to want things to “hurry up”. I am so very curious, by nature. Yesterday, I was making an agenda of what tasks lie ahead at the rabbit patch. I wondered again, when things will change and where will I end up? It came to me, that today, at this moment, I was right where I ought to be. Maybe, there is something more to learn or something more I need to receive. It could be, that there is something more I need to give. This comforted me greatly for I know Who holds today . . and tomorrow.
Tonight, is especially peaceful. The air is cool and the night choir is singing in hushed tones. There is a scarce splattering of stars. They shine like a kings’ silver-for in truth they are. Cash and Christopher Robin are dozing by the morning table as I write. It is a beautiful moment in a beautiful season-I am certainly in the right place . . and at the right time.
Dear Diary, I am glad for silver stars and quiet pastures. I am glad for all seasons . . . . I am glad for my beautiful life.