Runaway

My house is a mess. For example, I have found four separate apple cores on each flour of my house at varying degrees of disintegration. Also, I have no clean dishes. The logical response to this would have been to stay home and get some cleaning done. Yesterday, instead, I buckled M. into the car and we took a drive.

The original plan had been to take a walk up at my grandfather’s property, but M. fell asleep on the way over. Instead, I walked within earshot of the car by myself, and then we took the long way home, snagging shots of the different lakes that are spread out between where my grandfather lived and our own home.

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Why anyone might want to live anywhere else in the world in October is beyond me. I love living in New England year around, but the autumn is truly a special time of year here. As we tooled around today I was reminded of how blessed I am to live in a place that has four seasons, where, though it is fleeting, there is beauty in the end of things and the passing of life into sleep.

I’m often sucked into thoughts of the past, whether my own or the community’s and beyond, but there is something about this time of year, when the veil between our world and others thins, when nature’s life cycle is drawing to a close, that I start to see and feel the richness of history and seasons and how they work together so strongly. Our community is littered with tiny cemeteries, old stone walls, and homes that have stood for two hundred years or more, and scattered among these are lakes and massive boulders and rocky soil left behind by glaciers that moved across our continent hundreds of thousands of years ago. This mix of human and natural history is one of the finer points of New England, to see the two hundred year old rock walls made of the stones that were left here thousands of years ago that run along side roads that were repaved last summer (if you’re lucky, because, let’s face it, New England is also famous for it’s crap roads) is a reminder that everything changes, evolves, and cycles. Everything is different yet somehow the same, just repurposed, but in the end, it all returns to the earth.

So, I ran away from the mundane and explored old haunts that still manage to feel different and refreshing each time I go there, filled with ghosts as well as something new in the air that has never been there before. I am reminded of how important it is for me to stay grounded in who I am and who is a part of me, but to also be open to change and newness. I am reminded that it’s okay to leave my dirty dishes in the sink and to chuck the apples out the upstairs window for the deer to eat early in the morning, before we wake up. I am reminded that I am not the first creature to wander these roads and fields nor will I be the last.

 

 

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. debsdialogue says:

    Beautiful will need to add this to my collection of autumn places I have visited http://wp.me/p7pnfA-dY

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, you should! New England (Maine, in particular, I think) is such a wonderful place to be this time of year. If I could plan a perfect trip, I’d do a trip into Salem, MA, because that’s the best place to go this time of year, because it’s so Halloween-y, and then drive up through New Hampshire and Maine taking some back ways to enjoy the foliage.

      Like

  2. mandamay744 says:

    I love this post. Autumn is my favorite time of year. Theres a crispness and a smell to the air somedays that is just so wonderful it is beyond explanation.

    Like

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