The weather this fall has been warm so far. Yellow leaves alight in trees seem more vibrant under blue skies. Our sweaters warm us in the mornings, get left on park benches in the afternoon. My window stays cracked open at night, so I can hear the blackbirds caw in the morning, warning me day is about to break.
Routines are entrenched: mornings, after school, after supper and bed. Abby's piano practise delights me as I wash dishes. The girls brush their own teeth in the morning, eliciting giggles and messes that make me smile. Candles alight at the dinner table, signifying the darker days and crisp air at dusk. Unpacking quilts and blankets, making sure everyone's mitts still fit. Soups, stews, casseroles, breads, wait for us on our plates at the long, wooden table.
I am thinking about Halloween costumes, Christmas gifts, books to read, wondering if we have enough (of anything!) for our family, preparing the home for cold weather, putting the garden to sleep, yoga, appointments, drinking enough water. My mind is busy, (isn't everyone's?) but, the warm autumn weather calls me to put down the lists and go outside. Live in the poetry, the symphony of dried leaves crackling underfoot, did gusting through increasingly sparse trees, the rapture of colours exploding across our landscape.
I can feel the pull to come inside, soon. The comfortable hibernation will begin when the snow comes. Now, we soak it all in, each golden sunset, each folk song played while dinner is made, each Halloween craft coming home from school, each frosty morning walk, each warm sweater donned. Hugging someone who is wearing a cozy sweater is the absolute best.