Same. Same. But Different.
It’s been a month since I posted my last blog entry. For me, writing a blog requires a certain creative space that just hasn’t been in the same place on my priority list this month. I’m still writing and journalling, but just not posting.
This past month my creative space has been placed elsewhere. First I finished a class that I began in August that has required a lot of deep soul digging and excavation work. I’ve really enjoyed it.
Also during this past month, I drove to Virginia where I spent time with my daughter and her husband with a brief stop in Indiana to see my parents. While in Virginia, I finished my quilt with my daughter’s sewing machine and her willing assistance of maneuvering the king sized beast while I put the binding on. This quilt began as a dream 36 years ago and it started to take shape just before she was born. There is quite a story in this quilt that is waiting and gathering full expression in the tumblings of my brain and heart… hopefully the story will find it’s way to my blog next year.
I also began a much smaller quilt that expresses through fabric my blog post “Finding Home in Two Skies”. This new quilt found its way to my heart when I told a friend about my experience on the dock in Indonesia and she happened to find the Southern Hemisphere constellation ready for embroidery and gave it to me as a gift. I love the fabric I found for both sides of this quilt. The back fabric represents the Indian Ocean and the top fabric represents the night skies.
While in Virginia, I also cut nearly 1000 squares from stashes of fabric… some fabric was mine, some my daughter’s, and some fabric even belonged to both my mom and grandma. These squares were for my daughter to use for her next quilt. She too loves the Indian Ocean fabric… thankfully I had extra of that and cut some squares for her.
Here we are on the cusp of the of the week of Thanksgiving 2021, and I thought I would post a quick blog regarding a tree in my backyard and some thoughts about it. I begin with part of my journal entry from Saturday, November 14, 2020.
the leaves are clapping in celebration of a year hard fought
the air is crisp and fresh in temperature… not in fragrance at the moment, though… there is lingering skunk… just not sure which kind of skunk
We woke up to a blue sky and the nearly monthlong golden yellow leaves hanging by their threads to the mulberry trees. There were cold temperatures overnight so when the morning sun hit the threads of the leaves, they began to fall without wind in fast handfuls. We watched them for awhile—reflecting on all the different windows that we’ve looked out from and the views from bed that we’ve observed through the years. Scott realized he’d never really watched or seen leaves fall like that when there wasn’t wind to cause them.
The sun is bright in the south eastern sky. We’re sitting out by the fire pit in the backyard. Scott has raked some leaves and I built the fire. Sunshine, chairs, fire, fragrance, books, tea, wood, leaves, journal, scarves, blankets, gloves, pencils, and still the clapping of leaves as they fall from the trees.
The very next day… the leaves were gone. Dreary grey, periods of rain, constant drizzle, and wild winds broke the weak threads for stems and brought the rest of the golden leaves to the ground overnight.
This year, exactly one year and 5 days later, the 19th of November, 2021… there are no golden yellow leaves on our mulberry tree. And, I strongly doubt they will turn anything but brown before they fall. No signs at all for golden leaves. It’s been awhile since I’ve spent time with mulberry trees. I’m not sure if last year was a fluke or this year was the fluke. But, I do know that I have missed the vibrancy of the color in our backyard this year. I have missed how the golden yellow captured the sun and intensified it into my senses.
These thoughts around our mulberry tree cause me to reflect and take in anew… today is today is today. This moment will never be as it is right now again. If we partake in a slice of pumpkin pie or two or participate in some activity that we find ourselves doing the same every year… may we take a moment to reflect on the fact that it’s not the same pie or the same activity. A totally different pumpkin was used in the baking of that pie, and we, my friends, are different people right now than we were last year… just like our mulberry tree.
