September 21st. Fall, summer ends, days are already shorter, every day of extended green and warmth is a gift at this point. The spiders begin to come in through all the hidey holes in your house and most of them are welcome. The bees and wasps go nuts for food sources dive bombing people and sugary drinks and the butterflies mass and move on. The geese get rackety and the birds flock in those huge groups that look like fish under the sea flying to a rhythm only they can feel. The trees get sleepy and begin to change their wardrobe into fiery color and drop their summer grown seeds with their leaves before going mute. And everything changes. Fall and spring are fast seasons and the energies are moving, shifting and changing through the earth.

Those who are in ill health and delicate sometimes do not survive the instability from one season to the next. Once shed of their failing bodies I often wonder where they will go and how they will sprout. What forest, what water, what world they will have next. What stars will they gaze upon and what colors they will live in. What songs they will sing and what art they will create to sanctify their newness, once again. I wonder how they will commune with the divine and how their expression of it will grace their existence.

One day, in some Fall of some life time we shall all be shed of the bodies we have traveled so far in, only to be free once again to sprout somewhere else in another spring. Another new. Another song. Another weaving. Another tapestry of loved ones.



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