getting lost on the path
to nowhere
So many different ways to turn in this life, so many things to be and do and say and make. And all the accomplishments I have not yet accomplished sit stacked in a corner, mocking me. It’s okay though, I am good at turning my back on them, ignoring their whispers, re-straightening their pile when they get out of order.
I don’t want accomplishments anyway, I want to stand in the sun and breathe in the crisp smell of autumn.
The trees are especially vibrant this year, and I suppose the drought had something to do with that. The dried stalks of corn across the street are the perfect foil for a backdrop of orange and gold and crimson against the blue of sky that only happens after summer stops stealing its deepest hue.
I want to walk for days with my boots on, kicking up leaves and listening to the sounds of another year getting ready to put itself to bed. I want to choose the prettiest leaves and make a bouquet for the mantle. I want to hear the thud of apples dropping to the ground.
I miss the geese this year, with their raucous all-night parties ringing in my ear. I wonder what new place they have found to rest their weary bones, if they miss the swamp as much as I do. My monkshood is blooming right on time, the deepest of purples against the yellow leaves of hydrangea against the fresh pink of anemone that surely got its seasons all mixed up, for that color can only really belong to Spring.
Mother Nature has accomplished everything on her list this year. But then again, she always does.
I wonder if she ever stops to smile and listen, to feel the sun on her face and take in the beauty her brush has painted. Or does she hurry on with her nose to the ground, making ready for the next set of chores?
Maybe none of this is meant for her, anyway. Perhaps it’s all for us.
And she’s just waiting for someone to notice.
October 11th, 2012 at 9:04 am
i am thankful you do. thankful you notice the missing geese (though now i worry about them), thankful you hear the sound of apples hitting the ground, thankful for your eyes and your words. unmet accomplishments be damned – you live a life of enchantment.
October 11th, 2012 at 9:04 am
can i join you on your walk? i am choosing a slower life because i want to take the time to breathe and feel alive.
October 11th, 2012 at 10:24 am
Beautiful, Kelly!
October 11th, 2012 at 10:44 am
…just waiting for someone to notice…
i sometimes feel like my eyes are the camera lens picking up photo opportunity. everywhere i see a picture.
your geese are here. not in the huge flocks that darken the sky yet, but i always look when i hear them. often they fly after evening is an hour or so old. but i stand still and listen, knowing they are there.
Michigan fall is not always kind. October is not this year.
October 11th, 2012 at 11:19 am
You speak for me
October 11th, 2012 at 11:36 am
I want to visit where you live; it sounds so beautiful.
October 11th, 2012 at 11:54 am
I guess we’ll never know if she stops and listens, but like you…I DO! Daily. The beauty of nature is so fulfilling. Beautiful post and capture! LOVE, love, love your writing style!
October 11th, 2012 at 1:33 pm
I like to think that its meant for you and me . . . mother nature leaves a trail of such wonderful gifts.
October 11th, 2012 at 2:18 pm
You certainly have a gift of observation! The geese and swamp gone leaves a gap in your existence. Thanks for sharing your nature! Antonia
October 11th, 2012 at 7:13 pm
smiles….this is so gentle…i love the paragraph that starts…I want to walk for days with my boots on, kicking up leaves and listening to the sounds of another year getting ready to put itself to bed…ha me too…there is so much beauty in nature….