I'm new here, having found you through the web of Substack interconnections via Liminal Walker Musings, via the Creekmasons Collective.
I am a seed grower and the creator of the Winnow Wizard seed cleaner, I am working to restore local food systems in western Oregon, and I am a writer on themes of ecological spirituality and dissolving the illusion of separation.
I open the front door
to greet the garden,
the cool air, the soft sunlight,
as summer begins to slide into fall.
A few lavender stems are still blooming,
providing nectar for bees and butterflies.
The dry soil will need water this morning.
Before I go out, I check my email
and read your latest post, Kaitlin.
Thank you for your words of beauty and wisdom.
Thank you for helping me try to find the poetry, joy and tenderness in this moment.
This started out as an attempt at a poem but ended as a note of gratitude.
The garden is heavy
with fullness and summer,
Sweet susans drooping
into the coreopsis, the bluestem,
the strawberries
bent under the weight of
abundance, the whole dance of it
full and pressing, pressing like
the skin of water, holding shape,
barely, readying to spill back
into the earth, but aching to live into
every last sunset, until bedtime.
As some leaves turn and begin to fall
and others hold on, many weeks to go yet
they whisper to me
There is no one deadline
or rigid threshold
There is no expiry date
or calendar countdown
You can rest, you can wait, you can act
in your own time
This is so lovely!
OH YAY! October 1 is my birthday! What a lovely day for a giveaway. Thank you for creating this space your words are so inspiring.
Thank you so much for being here friend!
Glad for the space!
I'm new here, having found you through the web of Substack interconnections via Liminal Walker Musings, via the Creekmasons Collective.
I am a seed grower and the creator of the Winnow Wizard seed cleaner, I am working to restore local food systems in western Oregon, and I am a writer on themes of ecological spirituality and dissolving the illusion of separation.
My summer-turning-to-autumn poem is a bit long to paste in here so I'll link to it instead: https://dendroica.substack.com/p/turning
September
sweltering sauna
summer hangs relentlessly
no autumn chill here
paradise has its trade-offs
can’t wait to chill in winter 😁
Kaitlin- I love words, too, and I know
when they feel like home.
Thanks for sharing yours.