The garden tangles. Zucchini swell and elongate, beans curve in fading half-moons, pumpkins appear beneath rough leaves, their runners twined around the tall grass stalks I grasp and tug away.
I’m tidying only slightly. Digging out brown marigolds, clipping columbine pods. Late-day light on my jungle is calming. This past season, more than many, I’ve been fond of the chaos.
Indoors, it’s true as well. Early eastern rays of sun show streaks on windows, lines around my smile, and wrinkles on two shirts in chilly air, but I’m content in this final August display.
I used to dread autumn’s approach. Old feelings still nudge – fears of loss and anxious moments. Pieces from the distant past, maybe, are reachable in new ways, accessible to my tidying grasp. But living in the lines and tangles becomes less troubling. Even on cold mornings, the light is shining. Even when the gray comes, perhaps, the chaos will still hold beauty.
that settled me ,
how wonderfully put
Nice.
I love this time of year, it bounty and blessings tinged with hints of silence and even sadness…
Come to think of it, it reflects where I am in my life, chronologically: ripe middle age. Like you say, the time where we see lines around our smiles.
Hey, Deb, thanks. It helps to know settledness can be passed on.
Fresca, so true. Middle-age ripe, sometimes even mature. :o)