A bit like fresh baked bread? One likes to hope so. Half baked? Oh, you can count on it. But maybe that’s part of the adventure of blogging. I find out what I’m thinking as I write it. On my other blog (thecloisteredheart.org), I have at least a sense of where things are going. I like doing that blog, but I enjoy this one too. I like being surprised to find myself talking about nature, and letters, and "four dwarf colds." I would like to write of winter, and autumn, and wind….
Autumn came in fast this year, just as I’d settled in to summer. I sat outside to enjoy July fireworks and three hours later (slight exaggeration, but it felt that way) there was a sudden freshness in the wind. Now the air is tinged with woodsmoke, leaves crunch underfoot, and nights are long and deep and brisk. Candles against a darkened window seem somehow cozy and necessary, and my oldest grandchild checks our supply of hot chocolate. I don’t know why I’m surprised that the trees are all bare.
Next Thursday is Thanksgiving, with Advent just after. It's a time for writing cards, and updates, and letters. It's a time to sit inside (when possible) and write of the season's treasures. I once heard that writing is a “kind of double living.” During this time of holy anticipation, I would like to doubly live.
(photo © Nancy Shuman)
(photo © Nancy Shuman)
