Monday, October 2, 2017

In the autumnal garden

The garden has been slowly losing its freshness day by day, and here and there some ashen leaves would come swirling down from time to time… then more.  And more…  

 ...over there a yellowish-orange leaf.  Toasted leaves.  Reddish-brown leaves.  One.  Two.  Three.  Four leaves.  A dance in mid-air.  Maples, sycamores, yellow-poplars, Sweetgums.  Leaves that resemble some sorts of magical, sad faces that have already seen too much of the seasons...

It is definitely autumn, or the beginning of autumn around here. 

One would expect to find a sad garden in the fall.  And in a way, you would.  Every little petal, every leaf in the Crepe Myrtles, every spreading lobe and long, seductively spiked trusses of the Butterfly bushes... all are dying away.  The garden is quietly laying down its life as magically as it came to be, when it blossomed.   With it, too, fades away the spirit of the woman who lives in this garden. 

I can feel it's longings; how it breathes its last breath.  I see it weeping as it offers a final farewell to all it loves here.  To the garden, and its surroundings.  Quietly accepting this 'parting', in a most desperate way at the same time.  

It is hard to say goodbye to the wild things of Nature.  To your magical little world.  To those roses you planted one day, hoping to see them bloom on another.  Hard to say goodbye to your sacred space, to the woods under the fairy-tale light of the end of day.  To the cardinals serenading your early mornings, and the flirting games of hummingbirds across your windows, while having breakfast by the big, square table by the man you love. 

  And how can this old soul part away from all those things, 
and still forget them? 

I stand, shadowless, like silence, listening to the autumnal voices of my garden.  I hear it weeping, just like my soul is weeping.  And as I collect all of my belongings—dear little garden things, angels and fairies and trellises, my eyes are also searching the brown heart of the woods across the garden.  Searching among the bramble that forms the underground, and the perennial rootstock that throws up new shoots in the spring.  Remembering.  Drinking all in with the eyes of the soul, as to never forget.  

And how can I look for the slender privet shrubs that populate my woods, and not think of their  lovely May flowers?  The white blossoms just about covering every shrub, and the nice sweet smell. A scent that smells just like a spring day… and that’s about all I can say to describe the lovely scent of the privet flower.  Yes, I am taking all of this with me, and perhaps part of my spirit will always remain here?

A lot of interesting little things has been happening around here these past days, but I can only talk about it when I'm far away... when I’m finally tucked away in my garden in the roses.  But that, too, that’s another story of its own, and it must be told when my feet finally get grounded in rose soil, and the sun of another season shrouds my spirit with peace and contentment again.

We’ve been saying goodbye to a lot of good people as well.  Many, many lovely friends we have made here, and learn to love.  Going out with them to brunches, and dinners and farewell parties and prayers and good wishes.  My little heart feels sad, and happy and uncertain.  It wavers at times, and it is filled with bittersweet songs all the time.

I am almost done packing.  All is left now is part of the kitchen, and then some more.  Boxes have been storage in the garage, and I have continued giving away a lot of my treasures, gifting away everything my heart tells me to… to my kids who live here in the South, to friends, neighbors, taking things to donation centers and such.  In return, I’ve bought a couple of new outfits suitable for those chilly days of the autumns of the north, and if I find a pair of boots I like, I will get them too, to replace those few ones I'd given away.

The October wind is bringing inside the little white cottage the scent of the dying garden, the cooler evenings fanning in the ashes of what’s about to perish.  I’m done here.  What I love, is always near at hand, always in earth, and air.


  1. I think about the change and parting you are experiencing. You are moving through the process so fast, and that is good! I can understand the bittersweet process and I admire your grace and confidence. Many good wishes!

  2. I hope the people that bought this house from you will take care of the gardens you made. They are so pretty. In fact I saved some of the pictures you posted so I might make something like that for our future garden in our new home in a few years.

  3. You will bring your memories...

    And in not too long, you will be filled with a wonderful homecoming feeling. The House In The Roses will welcome you. Your garden will welcome you. Your mind will be filled with all the plans you have to make.... To bring your 'old home' back, to its former delightful aspect.

    And your spirit and heart will soar, again.

    Just wait...

    Just wait...

    Just wait...

    It will... It will... It will....

    Gentle hugs,
    Luna Crone

  4. I agree with Luna. She is a very wise woman.

    Unfortunately, we can't have life as exactly as we want it. I moved thousands of miles from my mom when I was only 21 thinking I would only stay a couple of years and then return to where I was raised. But that never happened and I ended up living apart from her the rest of her life, seeing her only annually, at best. It was bittersweet, but I made a good life where I moved and have chosen to appreciate where fate has placed me and embrace the good things of my life here. I won't deny it was sometimes so hard, prayers and thoughts will continue to be with you.

    Hang on to Luna's words! You will bloom wherever planted - you and your garden! :-)

    1. A message to Joanie McLaughlin...

      Thank you so much for saying what you did, about my words. How very sweet of you.

      I clicked on your click-able link, but could not find any blog link. I would have like to say Thank You, on your own blog.

      Gentle hugs,
      Luna Crone

  5. I am so happy for you, I have been following you for a long time. Please thank you for such a beautiful description of your life! You are truly an inspiration. Change is always daunting, but inevitable. your friend, Susan LaBadie

  6. Peace be with you as you journey away from the little white cottage to return to the home, the garden, and the roses that you loved before you came South.


  7. Change is hard for us humans, especially those of us with sensitive, tender hearts and souls. I am glad, though, you will be going home again to to the house in the roses. xxx

  8. I wish I could return to my home that I loved so much. I have never felt "at home" anywhere, including where I now live. I think you are very lucky.

  9. Will we be able to Follow you at your House In The Roses
    Cielo.I surely hope so
    As I lost you while I had many health issues now I have finally found you again
    Blessings from near York uk


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