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.

For sale

The “for sale” sign was finally put up last evening. 

People passing by were already slowing down and looking down… down the hill, at our little white cottage, and maybe, too, considering the possibility of finally being able to go behind the little white cottage and take a look at the garden?  Yes, that very same garden that since the very first day it was planted had been beckoning every passersby and neighbor to come beyond the fence, and look around.  This is their chance.  Finally.   I’m just hoping that people would ask for permission first before daring to go around and take a look.  I’d must definitely won't like seeing strangers walking around, or looking through the windows…  

I have been told I am to leave behind all my lovely chandeliers and the extra-long, extra pretty window panels for the next owners to enjoy, and I don’t understand how does that works, because I feel, and totally believe with all my heart, that those objects are to be treated as a woman’s personal little treasures… I mean, like a favorite parasol, or a pearl hair pin, or a beloved wide skirt with its panniers, or wide hoops, and petticoats.  Wouldn’t you agree? 

The two, oversized wall art, one in the living room and one in the kitchen area are to stay too, but those are stuck to the wall, so I can understand that.  In any case, I must take a big breath, close my eyes to these things, and hope the house sales for what we’re asking.

Early this morning, I went up the hill and took lots of pictures of our little white cottage with the ‘for sale’ sign up on the front yard… 

It was sad, and exciting, and it was almost a farewell ceremony of sorts between two souls, where one would stand in front of the other and hug, and kiss and say goodbye, until we meet again.

Who would live here and care for the garden, I wonder.  And who would sit on the front porch and watch the fireflies on a summer’s night and talk to the moon?  Would she be able to meet the witch who lives in my woods and see the white rabbit who wears a waistcoat?  “Oh, my furry whiskers, I'm late I'm late I'm late”.

You see, maybe she won’t see any of this, or none of it?  Because, really, to be able to enjoy all those things one must have a special heart and eyes that see.  For those who don't believe in magic will never find it.

You know what it’s been said: “We do not need magic to transform our world. We carry all of the power we need inside ourselves already.” Unfortunately, not everybody does… but you do! I know you all do!  Otherwise you wouldn’t be here visiting this blog! ;)

Carry the magic with you my friend! And don't let anything dull your sparkle!  

I’ll continue keeping you posted on our journey!  

Thank you for being here with me!

UPDATE:  WE'RE SUPER SUPER EXCITED TO THE MOON AND BACK EXCITED!!  WE GOT A PHONE CALL FROM OUR REALTOR JUST NOW - 8:06PM. WE GOT 2 OFFERS AND ANOTHER ONE COMING UP!  ALREADY!!  IN THE OWN WORDS OF OUR REALTOR:  OUR LITTLE WHITE COTTAGE IN THE WOODS IS THE TALK OF THE REALTORS AND BEYOND.  I HAVE NO WORDS TO EXPRESS HOW I'M FEELING RIGHT NOW!!  THIS IS INCREDIBLE YOU GUYS... INCREDIBLE!!   

 

Parting is such sweet sorrow

As the saying goes:  We only part to meet again.  This is so true in so many aspects of life.  For who would had thought we were meant to go back to all those things and places we were parting from, four years ago as we sailed off to distant clouds?  Life is so unpredictable.  And strangely beautiful sometimes. 

Mixed emotions have found a home in my little heart these days… I’m excited about this new horizon that's opening ahead of us, but also saddened by having to say goodbye to our quiet, country life and the pleasant trails of life we’ve journeyed through these past four years.  

I’m ready to move on, but I’m also holding each precious hour of my present days in the palms of my hands, wishing I could keep them there forevermore and not having to see them fading away behind the passing of moments.

  

I sit on the front porch each day and try to drink in with my soul each thing I see and hear, each little moment and sound, hoping to remember them later when I’m away from it all.  I’m going to miss all this… this quiet, open view of this lush, green land where giant trees cocoon our souls, as our little white cottage shields our physical bodies.  

The warmth of this sun that does not know about ices, or freezing temperatures, the afternoon rains on petals and leaves and firefly illuminated nights.  I'm going to miss it all.

I’m feeling nostalgic and a little regretful.  About having to part, about having to embrace that cold-snowed-world of our yesterdays again.  But I do have many other things to look forward to as well... and thus, I am leaving all my longings and wistful feelings on the hands of this astounding, powerful Creator and Father of all who knows my heart so well.  I may not truly understand it, but God’s will for our lives has reason and purpose.  And I leave it all to Him. 

This past weekend we decided to go camping, and thus we visited our favorite campsite again.  It was our last camping trip of the year, as well as our last time camping in the South and most particularly in that campground we so love. The same campground where my magical tree is found... my “Living Water Tree”, and the place where I have lived many a happy gypsy story in our gypsy wagon.  Will we ever come back here again?

The reason it hurts so much to say goodbye to this place is because its heart and my soul have connected... 

...but I will have to remember that if we are brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward us with a new hello.  Right?

Parting is such sweet sorrow...

Life at the little white cottage

It amazes me—the markedly visible changes in the natural world that can take place in just a short week.  I am back home, back from a week of helping and caring for my elderly parents down in Florida after the hurricane that had affected that beautiful State.  Now back to my little world of wonders that has already changed so much in a wink of a week… from the maturity of a tired summer, to a mellow, quieted early autumn.  And the garden is already a field of leaves, and there’s a noticeable change in the atmosphere of the woods, in the shadows that linger throughout the house and the shaft of light that kisses the world outside our little white cottage at 3:30pm.  

It is a desolate, melancholic feeling and the usual mood of autumn.  More so, because I have brought home with me from Florida a heart that’s been saddened by the afflictions of Alzheimer that’s affecting my beautiful mother as she struggles through life, and how she has so drastically declined in only a short month since I saw her last, this past August.  Feelings of abandonment, and finitude have already taken possession of this little heart of mine, that it is already mourning.  And I find myself crying throughout the day, searching for answers that I cannot find, coveting moments past, a childhood memory, wishing for a complete sentence from lips that always spoke only of the goodness in others.  Eyes that can again search mines without getting lost in the shadows past them. One more cuddle mom, a walk on sturdy feet, one more meaningful embrace please mother come back to me. Please postpone that long trip and stay by me...  

I have already started packing things up as we put our home for sale next week, and boxes are piling up.  I am keeping only the necessary, only those things that are dear to my heart in a dispensable way.  Had been giving things away, and donating hundred more.  I don’t want to take with me things I’m not using or know I won’t use any more.  Taste changes, things change, the spirit changes.  I’m not looking twice at those things I’m giving away.  I’m just letting others enjoy what I had once enjoyed.  Without a care in me whatsoever I am freeing my soul of clutter as I declutter our house too.  Not looking back.  Not desiring what I once had coveted.  Life is short.  One must treasure only the present.  

  

I hope you all are doing fine. Hope life gives you the best, the prettiest, the dear close to you, to hold and cherish and appreciate them.  Please don’t forget to let those you love know how much you value them.  Treasure each moment spent with them and forgive and forget that what is not rooted on love.

Peace be with you

Returning home

The blue Endless Summer hydrangea by the front porch is full with new blooms—finally. Not a single floweret was seen throughout the entire summer. This hydrangea was definitely not doing any honor to its name. Until now.  And maybe I will still have blue hydrangeas by Halloween? 

Halloween. The word always brings magical thoughts to my mind... of chilly evenings and crimsoned leaves swirling in autumnal breezes. Warm sweaters, pumpkin pies, hearty black bean soups and out of the oven warm baguettes. To catch a leaf in midair, make a wish, kiss it and toss it into the wind. And a time to return home.

And thus... we've been deep cleaning outside and inside our little white cottage so that we can finally put it up in the market for sale.  Yes, it is official my friends!  We're returning to the house in the roses before the year is over.

 

It is with hearts filled with bittersweet emotions and nostalgic feelings that we're preparing ourselves to say 'goodbye' to our beautiful, cozy, magical little white cottage in the woods.  Our dear sweet nest that for so many days gifted us with shelter, joy, and wonder. 

So many emotions, so many thoughts running through our minds and hearts. Life is such an unpredictable adventure! For who would have thought back then when we were living our dear house in the roses on that Halloween day, four years ago, that we' were to return to it?  And in such short time! 

A blessed time it had been, and some wonderful years spent here at our little white cottage. Years of spiritual growth, a time for fulfilling dreams, making new friends, collecting eternal memories. Years of togetherness and amazing blessings, miracles, and dreams come true.

I am thankful beyond words for every moment spent here, for every memory made. Thankful for everything I was able to accomplish, for this precious garden created out of my hands by the breath of God.  For that magical, perfect wooded area behind my gardens.  For my birds, squirrels and rabbits. For that enigmatic white rabbit wearing a waistcoat that I see roaming my gardens from time to time. For the witch who lives somewhere deep in my woods.  For the pond and the fishes.  For the white cat that on one cold winter morning came to me and stayed around until the roses bloomed and the robin-blue eggs hatched. 

Thanksgivings and Christmas at the little white cottage—what a delightful time you were! Surrounded by dear ones who for the very first time since I left my maternal home and went far away were able to come to us, and celebrate at our home.  What a blessing it has been to finally be able to be the host and serve, and love and be one in harmony, love and acceptance!  Fairy lights on the country porch and twinkling stars on the holly hedge.  

The round, orange moon at the feet of giant trees up the hill.  The dark, silent country roads and fireflies in June.  The mist after the rain and the quiet hilly roads on my morning jogs.  Elephant ear and crepe myrtles.  The distant coo call of pigeons and the songs of wood frogs.  The loud courtship songs of cicadas, the yellow bus at 2:00.

My little heart is overflowing with gratitude. For the precious gifts bestowed upon us these past four years. For the proximity of dear ones and all the many occasions we were able to see them and be together.  A precious gift.  A dream come true.  

Thankful beyond words for our precious little white cottage of my dreams, surrounded by trees and that enchanting wood at the edge of the garden where the voices of Nature can always meet my heart. Sunny, magical, and filled with birds.

My little heart is crying inside.  For what we're living behind.  Because the human heart is just like that. We wish for that what it is not and cry for that which it was.  And I'm almost forgetting that I cried for many days when we first moved south, remembering what I'd left behind.  And I can't forget that I'm now crying for all I've learned to love and soon leaving behind.

Mixed emotions.  A heart that is torn between two homes, two gardens, two lives.  Wish me well.  Wish me luck.  And please don't forget me.  Come and say hi and follow me back to the house in the roses, and that new life that's awaiting for us.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a follower a reader and a friend!  

I love you all. From the little white cottage... to you.

PS: I will continue posting and documenting our progress, until the day we say goodbye to our little white cottage forever.