Sometimes, when you need it most, the powers that be present you with a perfect, glorious, 70-plus-degree October weekend. September was cold and soggy and mean spirited-- best forgotten, really. I spent a good part of the weekend basking, which is, I think, the only proper response to 70-plus-degree October weather. I basked on a bench by a pond at Southwind Farm (where Alexis and I went for an open house), I basked on a wagon full of hay being pulled up onto a hill overlooking town, I basked as I hung clothes on the line, I basked lying down in the grass for no good reason at all.
Since moving into this wonderful old house, our life here has been so busy moments of clarity have been scarce. You know those brief moments when your head ceases its spinning on from one task to another? You take a break between thinking simultaneously of the then and the now and the next and just go quiet? Well, I was walking in from the garage (where I've been building a chicken coop) and it was about four-thirty in the afternoon, the sun was behind me, and a breeze caught our old hickory just right and sent a storm of golden leaves sailing down all around. It was one of those clear moments, totally mundane and commonplace except for the blessed quiet taking place inside my own head. And I thought, this, right now, I will remember this the rest of my life. For no reason greater than those golden hickory leaves.
If you needed it, then I hope this weekend brought you clarity, too. And basking.