October

A state of mind…

“All things on earth point home in old October; sailors to sea, travelers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.” -Thomas Wolfe

The richness of fall to the last leaf, the last birth, the last miricale. But we’ve yet to realize that in death life must rise again. In this, we may lose light to darkness but we are gaining something far more precious; a mystical light.

Days of light growing shorter give way to darker days and the merriment of witches and goblins by months end. The ritual of Halloween, a precursor to the holiday season as death and decay allowed one last dance. County fairs and festivals are familiar to October as a sense of community; coming home which guides us to Thanksgiving, Christmas, the New Year and ending with the Feast of the Epiphany on January 12.

The reflected light from the setting sun causes brush strokes of orange and blue…the night sky seems clearer and closer as the cat sleeps longer… dogs bark louder…hobbits drinking beer in the post-dawn sun… bats are returning from a hard day’s night as squirrels gather nuts and acorns for their winter stores… the pumpkin patch…scarecrows…red-tailed hawks.  

Autumn begins in late September under the cusp of the September equinox in the Northern Hemisphere. In the Christian calendar, this is known as the Feast of St. Michael… the darkening of days into longer nights. This year we can add a lunar eclipse to this sacred threshold as the dust settles on the last days of September, the world bundles up tumbling toward the shadowy world that is October.

The richness of ‘fall ‘colors, create a sense of wonder as it hides the secrets of death and decay as we are holding on to the last leaf, the last miracle of life. But we’ve yet to realize that in death life must rise again. In this, we may lose light to darkness but we are gaining something far more precious; a mystical light.

October is a ‘thin place’. Thin places mark the boundary between what was and what is; light and dark, good and evil, the reconciling of opposites; this is the month for meditation, mindfulness, and awareness. For one can easily get lost in October’s beauty and live forever inside the mind.  However, we are not meant to live in only one hemisphere. We are of both, time and space. And we can make October a month of peace and transition.

Days of light growing shorter give way to darker days and the merriment of witches and goblins by months end. The ritual of Halloween, a precursor to the holiday season as death and decay allowed one last dance. County fairs and festivals are familiar to October as a sense of community; coming home which guides us to Thanksgiving, Christmas, the New Year and ending with the Feast of the Epiphany on January 12. 

But what does October mean to me? Looking back over my life, it appears October has been a singular event for me in many ways as the first frost like a sheet of crushed ice across the top of lawns and the roof of houses and barns jogs my memory. The end of the harvest… the harvest moon… the music of Bach… sleeping with the windows open… old dogs warming their chilled bones by the fire… geese fly in formation… blackbirds… bats rising up from the rafters of the barn heading toward a nocturnal ritual…the sweet fragrance of Gardenias… the delicate colors of Pansies… freshly brewed coffee… the season’s first hot chocolate… days of contemplation and wonder. The birth of my daughter,

Still, other events I associate with October are the end of the fishing season and the beginning of the hunting season…the picking of apples and the season’s first taste of apple cider… long walks in a deep wood… the laughter of children out for recess in the chilled air… the sweet taste of sugar cane…my grandmother’s red and white checkered apron, reading Poe’s Raven by the fire.

The reflected light from the setting sun causing brush strokes of orange and blue…the night sky seems clearer and closer as the cat sleeps longer… dogs bark louder…hobbits drinking beer in the post-dawn sun… bats are returning from a hard day’s night as squirrels gather nuts and acorns for their winter stores… the pumpkin patch…scarecrows…red-tailed hawks.  And so much more… jc

copyright jc 2020-9… photos by pixels

Dreams, the River and You

Sacred River, A Meditation  
The sun settling silently on the big muddy, grandfather of all rivers as thoughts come and go and we mourn and celebrate all that life offers. My sacred river, churning and turning the secrets of all born to its code. But someone forgot to tell the river that it’s secrets were not to be entrusted with the likes of ordinary men. So the Mississippi flows south on the compass of life, an open oyster for all the world to behold the failures and successes of untold thousands waiting to be witnessed… all in good time… all in good time.

In The Advent of Starship

On Christmas eve our pilgrim finds himself in a land far north of anything he has ever seen…

Again the ghost sped on…

“Again the ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea… on, on… until, being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore, they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the lookout in the bow, the officers who had the watch; dark ghostly figures in their stations; but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companions of some bygone Christmas day, with homeward hopes belonging to it. And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad had had a kinder word for one another on that day than on any day in the year; and had remembered those he cared for at a distance and had known that they delighted to remember him.”
-Charles Dickens- ‘A Christmas Carol’

The Advent of the Rising Sun

“Four Ways to Love”

“The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart.”  -Helen Keller

 

Hope
If I’m allowed to behold one more rising sun
Everything I see is pure as it speaks to me in rhyme
Its’ rhythm moves me forward, its’ essence leaves me in mindfulness
Where all is thou , all is sacred, all is you.