November Light

Looking through my kitchen window this morning, I saw Father Sun trying to peek through the branches of these bare-looking trees. The morning light is soft as it filters through the trees.
It's quality is different now. There is no hurry. No rush. The Earth is preparing to rest.

I find this softness comforting.
An hour or so later, I went for a walk.
And found the moon languishing in the western sky.

How pretty she looks, soft and feminine. Not clear and bright, or luminous and powerful. Just there, as if dancing in the treetops.
The Wheel is Turning.
November is a gentle month.

Autumn's dark side...

Autumn seems to be a time for grieving. Strong, warm Summer sunlight fades as a shadowy darkness takes over.

I spent most of the night crying. Tears soaked my pillowcase. Hubby lay beside me, breathing deeply. I placed my arm on his bony hip, cuddling him close to me, as I cried a river of tears.

I was remembering our first days together. Our first months. Our first years. As the old cliche goes "we were so much in love" (and still are to this day). It was pure bliss - heaven on Earth. I was bursting with happiness on a daily basis. I felt vastly rich. Truly loved and cherished. We played, we laughed, we travelled. Life was beautiful!

I wondered (as a kaleidoscope of the last 13 years danced through my head) will he die tonight? He had been sleeping on and off most of the day. As gentle love scenes played across my memory, flowers, moon-lit nights, birthdays, beaches, dazzling sunsets, caring and sharing - will tonight be the night?

I've asked that same question time and again over the seven and a half years he's been on oxygen. Will I find his body cold beside me in the morning; his spirit flown? Will I come home to find him on the floor? Gone - while I was out somewhere I didn't need to be?

The night before my mother died, the same swirling of thoughts and memories flashed through my mind - just like this night. I remember being a small child. Mom teaching me how to tie my shoe, wash my hands, say thank-you to someone. Mom tucking me into bed with a goodnight kiss. Mom standing at the door, waving good-by as I eagerly rushed out on my way to some adventure or other. Scenes from my teens, my graduation, my wedding, the birth of my children played in my head the night before she died. I did not know she was dying.

Very early the next morning, I got The Call. I knew in the depth of my soul that she had been sending me messages as her spirit chose to leave this Earth. They were not dreams, for I was wide awake. They were energy thought-forms. My sisters also received messages that night.

Was this to be the same happening? The very same scenario?

The next morning, Hubby awoke, looking better than he had in a long time. Relief washed over me like a wave. It's not his time yet. So why was I grieving? I don't know. Perhaps I had a slushy mound of grief stored up that needed release. All summer, I'd been riding a wave of joy, as I usually do. Sunshine and flowers; my hands in the Earth. I ignored sad. I pushed aside grief. I've been grieving for 7 and a half years - ever since his diagnosis. We need to treasure our time together. Not grieve the future.

I know, I know, but when I watch his daily struggles; constant unrelenting fatigue, frequent rest stops while slowly making his way across the room, eroded memory, emaciated body, oxygen tubing snaking across the floor; and the worst of the worst, even while resting in a chair, is.. just.. trying.. to.. breathe... it's hard not to look in the face of Grief.

Geese flying over the moon

(pic compliments of the net)

Last night, after supper, I decided to go for a short walk. Our weather had been rainy and cloudy for the past couple of days, so I didn't really expect to see the moon. Waxing gibbous is where She is right now. Full splendor on October 4th - actually tomorrow!

Coming around the circle, and up a short hill (o.k. upward slope in the road), I looked up and saw a hazy, cloudy sky. There was a little patch in between the clouds that looked as if it were lit from behind by Our Mother Moon.

How pretty, I thought to myself. I guess that's as good as I'm going to get this evening. Just a haze and a bit of gentle light illuminating the soggy clouds from behind.

Continuing to stretch my legs and breathe in the fresh air, I walked on. Acorns crunched underfoot. All was dark. Streetlights are far and few between, here in the country, but lights shone from some houses as I passed by. Some people leave only one lamp burning in the window, as if to welcome passers by. Others have lights shining in every room.

Squabbling voices pierced the night air, interrupting the soft silence. Hmmm, somebody must be having a party, I thought. Strange that the noise level would reach the street. Our properties are large and unless doors and windows are open, you can't really hear anything that goes on inside the houses.

Squabbling turned into squawking and instantly I understood. Geese! Of course! Canada geese flying South for the winter! Quickly I scanned the dark skies trying hard to figure out where they were. How could I possibly see any movement in a dark night sky? Well I tried anyway and saw nothing.

The Moon however, chose this time to show off. Clouds yielded; hung back for a bit allowing Mother Moon to shine. Not brightly or clearly, but with an ethereal glow.

Waiting and watching, I stood rooted to the spot.

"Come on, geese - where are you?" I called into the darkness.

Honk! honk! honk....growing fainter now.

Oh well, time to go. Turning away, I started back home. On an impulse, I took one last look over my shoulder. And then I saw them! Two or three at first, flying one behind the other, silhouetted against the light of the almost-full Moon.

And then there were zillions! Wings flapping, long necks reaching as if to plant a goosey kiss on Mother Moon before flying away on their journey. I was in awe! Never have I seen geese flying over the moon before. Thought it was the stuff of story-books.

As the honking grew softer and more distant, I silently wished them farewell.

Have a good trip and enjoy the warm sunny Winter. See you in the Spring.

Had I not given in to that little tug at my shoulder nudging me to turn back at just the right time, I would have missed this magical moment.

I wonder what message the Universe is sending me?

Queen Mabon

The Wheel Turns. Light is fading and Queen Mabon or Maeve as she was once called, adjusts the folds in her dress, as she floats down, settling herself upon the land.

Looking around with her appraising eye, she notices with satisfaction the leaves that were once a nourishing green, are slowly changing to deep russet, vivid orange, and perfect red.

"Perfect red?"

A saucy chipmunk pops up from its burrow:

"Who said that? Perfect red? How can a colour be perfect?"

"Well then, how about blood? ruby? sanguinous?" answered Queen Mabon.
"Those adjectives are so worn out."

"All right, picture this - glowing red, friendly red, autumn red?
"That's a stretch!", retorted the naughty chipmunk.

"O.K. smarty pants, instead of sassing me, tell me this - have you started gathering acorns for winter?"

"Of course! Do you think I need you to tell me what I've been doing instinctively for years??"

And with that, he popped back down into his burrow.

With a sigh of gentle patience, Queen Maeve turned her attention back to her immediate duties. Licking her finger in the time honoured, old fashioned way, She next tested the Air.
"Hmmm, cool and a little crispy, as it should be, but warmed with just the right amount of Sun - Perfect!"

Looking around, She noted with satisfaction that Lily of the Valley had transformed right on schedule. From Maidenly, delicate, white bells in the early Spring, to robust red berries of Autumn.

(don't look too closely at this pic or you'll see that the red berries are actually cherries and not Lily of the Valley berries, but I liked this pic immediately when I saw it).

Rose also was showing her hips - red and luscious and inviting...

" Hmmm, well, I'll have to keep my eye on that one!" Maeve muttered to herself.
Queen Mabon looked around and smiled. Everything was as it should be. Animals scurried about, preparing for the cold winter months ahead. In the gardens, chives, lavender, basil, marigolds, pansies (among others) were busily sowing their seeds for next spring's crop of herbs and flowers.

She turned her face upwards, to scan the sky; looking for that last sign that the Wheel of the Year was indeed turning - that it hadn't gotten stuck in the mud, or broken a spoke along the way.

And then she heard them. Softly at first, but unmistakable.... the honking
of Canada geese, flying South to warmer lands; their distinctive V-formation marking their journey through the Sky.

And when Swirling Mists began their Work of dampening and softening the landscape, Mabon knew her work was complete. Autumn had arrived on time - to meet the Fall Equinox.

She sighed and let down her hair - all was in order...for now..... and yet her Work had only just begun, for Samhain was already tugging impatiently at her skirts...

Edges.....

Borders.....

Fringes......

Lines...lips.....

Contours....margins,

Periphery....

A faerie ring

A distant shore

Thresholds...

Portal!

Balancing on the edge,

Equal day and night
Tween times....

It's Mabon. First day of Autumn.

Day and night are balanced.

Edges of light and dark more delineated.

Where there are borders, there are faerie folk.

We are between Worlds just for a wee bit of time.

And as the Wheel Turns, darkness grows stronger; as light recedes.

So for now we Dance on the edges.

Full September Moon

It's good to remember
The Full Moon in September

How did we get here?
Where are we going?
Who will we meet on our pathway?

I feel secluded
I wish to flee
And stay
I am safe, yet restless.

I am free, yet bound.
I feel trapped in a forest
And yet can step out whenever I please
But I always come back...
There is something yet to learn....
The Time is not right yet.

Love surrounds me like a cape.
Yet chokes.
But wait - True Love does not choke. True Love lets go.
Love and Let go. Love and Let go - the hardest lesson on the planet (at least I think so).
Who is holding on to Who?

Somebody said this is the last Full Moon of summer. I hadn't thought of that.
But summer is coming to a close.
Soon it will be Fall, as the Wheel Turns once again.

Nights are chillier; early morning cool as I step onto my deck, looking for Father Sun to say good morning. I shiver, put on a sweater, sip my morning coffee. Early morning is my favourite time of the day and I like it to be warm. But at least, I can still go out. It's not too cold yet to walk among my flowers, listen to birds calling back and forth, watch chipmunks scurrying to and fro in search of food.

In another month it will be too cold. But for now I will enjoy the chilly early morning air, the clear sun peeking at me through the leaves of my oak trees, as I quickly stretch and honour the Four Directions.

Gentle is how I see this September Moon. I am feeling gentleness.
And learning to be gentle with myself.

Full Moon Clarity

August full moon. Corn moon. Moon of the Harvest.
Last night before going to bed, I looked out to see if I could see Mother Moon. She shone through the clouds Strong and Clear.

I don't remember seeing her so Clear before.

Luminous - yes.
Bright and shiny -yes.

Hazy - yes. Partially obscured - yes.

But Clear and Warm? Strange combination.

I tend to think of Clear and Bright as cold. Like the clear, bright Stars you see when you look up into the darkness on a cold, crisp winter's night.

Strange....I went to bed and did not give Her another thought. After all, Her fullness was not due until tonight, Thursday.

Ah.... but the ways of Mother Nature are mysterious.

Out for my morning walk, earlier on, I was mulling though something that happened the day before. The Clear Moon day. I had taken some pics of my grandchildren. There were about 10 of my granddaughter playing in the park and only 1 of my grandson. He had been with his mother (my daughter) while we were at the park, so little Nathan was left out of the pics.

Standing at the front door saying goodby, little Nathan (safe within his mother's arms) gurgled and laughed as only 6 month old babies do. Instantly I whipped out my camera. I had to take this pic.

At home, I uploaded (or down, I can never figure out which) the pics. The one of little Nathan was good, except that there were too many distractions in the pic, taking away from his dear little face. At first I was disappointed.

Hmmm, maybe it's time I learned how to "edit" my pics. The edit feature that comes with Windows is extremely frustrating (at least to me). I don't want to "draw" on my pic. I don't want to "erase" the background. I've tried that and it looks horrible. I just want to crop the baby's face and bring in into focus. The rest of the background can be "out of focus" or soft and blurry.

After a bit of searching, I did find an edit programme. I think it might have been photobucket. And even with that programme, the cropping took me a long time. Either I don't have the proper technique (it kept slipping away from me), or it's just difficult to do (which it should not be).

So, as I was walking, mulling this through, it struck me that my failures are really stepping stones. I've always cringed at the thought of failing. I think most of us were brought up that way. Failing was something embarrassing. Something to cry over. Failed exams, failed casseroles, failed businesses, failed relationships.

But now with the gift of Clarity from Mother Moon last night, I see failures in a different light; as a place to begin. A launch pad. The first step on a path. Instead of meeting Failure with Frustration, I will now look at Failure and ask "o.k., what's the next step?"

I have never been as interested in photography as I have in writing. That old "fear" of not being as good as the professionals. That old, nagging voice saying "you're not artistic, you can't do that", has kept me back. Or the other limiting thought pattern "you have to choose: writing or taking pics, you can't do both."

But now I'm finding out just how much fun creating and editing photos can be. It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't have to measure up to somebody else's standards. I can do it for the sheer joy it brings me.

So thank you August Mother Moon for helping another piece of my Creative Self to sneak out. And for the Clarity to see "failure" for what it is - not an ending, not something to be feared, but a Light, a glow, pointing the way to success or at the very least, change.