The mower didn't exactly purr but it ran well enough to propel me at moderate speed through the prodigious piles of fallen leaves which had accumulated over the last week. The weeks of rain had made the yard a swamp and I'd waited until the last day before it was going to start to rain again before mowing the overly long grass. The azure sky was dotted with cottony clouds completely unlike the clouds that would come marching across the Northeastern Ohio sky very soon. These clouds, layered atop one another like the snow drifts they contained, would mark the coming of winter and would, sooner than I was ready, cover my yard in white.
But today, I rode my mower under tree limbs still covered in scarlet and red. The sunshine as it filtered through the leaves cast first yellow then red shadows across my face which made the edges of my mouth turn up as I cast my eyes skyward. The light wind tossed the branches playfully around like children swinging, legs outstretched as they reached for the sky. Leaves launched themselves into the air and the floated around me as the exhaust tossed them back up into the air. They circled and circled in a carefree dance, the wind and mower creating mini ground tornadoes of amber and scarlet.
Autumn is my favorite time of year; the seasons change, the weather is a perfect combination of hot and cold, the skies are perfect, cloudless blue and my birthday occurs. Since, this year I officially crossed over into maturity, I find myself thinking of endings and how seasons so wonderfully mirror the seasons of our ages.
Spring is carefree, happy and innocent like children, then comes summer and storms, lightening and lots of heat and sweat just like those child bearing years when we find passion and purpose.
Then comes Autumn the mellowness of changing leaves, changing seasons, animals storing up against the winter lack and the perfect blend of weather with long, cool nights perfect for snuggling mimics where I am now in life and I was reminded of this as I circumvented the yard. I thought about what a wonderful time this was age-wise for me. I feel both wise yet free to be myself, able to be brilliant all while falling into winter. The trees shedding their brilliant leaves in a wild showy cascade as they dance wildly in the wind; bare branches free of burdens and cares know exactly how precious each moment is and so enjoy it with abandon. I am learning to live this way with an attitude of enjoying just where I am at that moment because I never know when that last moment might be. The snow can fall at any time.
Winter then is in the air, I think, peering out the back windows at the sky as thin high clouds stack up like cards on the horizon. The squirrels run around the yard in frantic bursts of energy. Huge black walnuts held in their mouths do not seem to slow them down. I've put the snow stakes in the driveway and cleaned the mower of its blanket of dried grass and pine needles. I've moved the snow blower to the front of the garage and rearranged all the moving machines which are housed in the garage so that I can back my front-wheel drive car into the garage. The weather woman says we'll have snow showers on Friday and Saturday. Winter is coming, soon, it seems. Will I be ready?
I walked the other day on a lovely trail...not too steep but just a little, not too down but just a little...it was just right. It led me along the river that runs by the Inn. Its babblings spoke of summer sun and pine scent and peace. The river carried this news further down and further down into the town where hopefully it spoke its peace, dissipating it into the general population.
It is high summer here in the Montana mountains and with summer comes a plethora of beauty. So much beauty, often, I find it overwhelming my senses to the point that I cannot blog, write, photograph it...the creation is unable to be documented with sufficient human acts to do it justice..so I do not; I just look and remember. But on this particular day, I found that beauty had turned to bounty. Lining the trail was the beginning of the summer abundance...you got it....berries!!!
If you have never tasted an alpine strawberry, well then you have never tasted a real strawberry. They are tiny about the size of the end of my little finger. They are hard to find, about 1 in every 5 plants has this tiny treat hanging under its leaves. However, it is packed with the flavor of 10 of those strawberry taffy bars, only better! Hungrily, I ravaged the tiny plants up the 1.25 mile trail. The rewards were few but each time I found one I wanted to cry, "Eureka" for the discover meant just the briefest of moments of exquisite flavor.
Oh, I guess I also forgot to mention that the first of the Huckleberries were also ripening. Small, blueberry like berries but different, they tasted more like a blueberry with a pinch of sourness which blended in my mouth to create a need for more. So, as my hiking partner and I edged our way up the mountain we feasted upon nature's bounty and I tried to remember that the animals who we share this beautiful mountain with also needed this bounty for their survival.
And there is the rub for me, trying to remember that it is NOT all abut Moi. In fact, in this place, it most definitely is very little about me. This is not my home, although it is. The food that grows in great abundance here is balanced each year so that the true residents of this mountainside can survive. If I decide that alllll this is really mine and I can take it all, who actually loses? Not me, for I can go to the grocery and buy really all I will ever need ten times over, only thing I'll lose is the fleeting sensation of pleasure I receive from tasting the berries of the mountains. This taste reminds me that at some point in time "I" knew about how to take care of myself in the wilderness. Somewhere back in time, in my wild brain, I knew that this abundance helped "me" through the winter too and I vied with the wildlife for it. But now, I don't need it so what is my right to it?
It was with these thoughts rolling about in my head that I hiked up and up not to far, not too long but just enough to view the river flowing happily below, to smell the pine scent, to think about my wild self and to feel the breeze on my face. All of these sensations helped me to get back to the ancient me, that still small voice on the inside that said, "Eat the berries, but not too much, leave some for those who will come behind you whether it be bear or human. You do not need it all for nature is abundant and takes care of her own. There will be more for you when you need it, as you need it." And so, as I reached down to find another tiny, red treasure, I thanked her for her provision and bounty, knowing that she will take care of those who love her.
