Autumn Leaves of Red and Gold

It was only with effort that I made it to work this morning. However, despite my continued symptoms I found the walk in quite pleasant. The air smelled familiar, the temperature held my face gently in cool hands, and the sight of the changing of the leaves helped me to remember myself. My parents once said that I was born with the first snow of the year, which in my hometown was fairly consistently on my birthday, but I feel like whenever I first came to awareness of the world it must have been in the autumn. I love the low afternoon sun that hems all things with gold and casts long, dark shadows, to the serenade of crickets; and the rain that makes the colours deep, and dulls the sound of the world into a gentle hiss. The whole world feels like it is sitting on the porch, relaxing, sighing, and getting ready to rest its head.

I cannot ask anything much of myself right now, nor hardly anything of my heart, but what would it take for me to give myself a day to... wash in mead? Perhaps there is something I could feed my soul to help this healing and inspiration process along. Something new, something evocative... I want to be... swept away, by something truly awesome.

Lord, let me be surprised.  

Perhaps you, too, are tired in your heart, dearest reader. If so, may you find some sort of refreshment and wonder today in ordinary moments, and inspired whispers meant just for you.