I have been trying to think of words that describe our fall light
and how it makes me feel; this golden, glowing, caressing almost a
blessing kind of light. How it fills me with such exuberance as when I was
a child, making piles of leaves and jumping in, kicking leaves, toasting
hotdogs over burning piles of leaves; that sense of joy. I was reading this
poem of Mary Oliver’s' last week; she says it best.
"If I Were" by Mary Oliver
There are lots of ways to dance and
to spin, sometimes it just starts my
feet first then my entire body, I am
spinning no one can see it but it is
happening. I am so glad to be alive,
I am so glad to be loving and loved.
Even if I were close to the finish,
even if I were at my final breath, I
would be here to take a stand, bereft
of such astonishments, but for them.
If I were a Sufi for sure I would be
one of the spinning kind.
to spin, sometimes it just starts my
feet first then my entire body, I am
spinning no one can see it but it is
happening. I am so glad to be alive,
I am so glad to be loving and loved.
Even if I were close to the finish,
even if I were at my final breath, I
would be here to take a stand, bereft
of such astonishments, but for them.
If I were a Sufi for sure I would be
one of the spinning kind.
From A Thousand Mornings, Mary Oliver’s new collection. All rights reserved.
Happy Thanksgiving
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| On our drive yesterday, just outside Montgomery Falls, Vermont |
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| Again, just outside Montgomery Falls, Vermont |
