A much lovelier autumn than had been predicted. I've been traveling a lot at different elevations, plus have the pleasure of driving through considerable mileage of two lane country roads throughout the week. Mid September through mid October the fields and roadsides from the Piedmont of NC up through the tidewater and coastal plains of Virginia and Maryland, and the lower elevations of the Alleghenies were lovely with bidens, perennial sunflowers of assorted species, white and lavender wild asters, purple New York Ironweed, more late goldenrod species than any one person could key out, perennial ageratum, assorted large seed pods with their interesting shapes adorned by seeds with white parachutes, and the distinctive and early scarlet of sumac leaves. The trees blanketing the southern mountains of West Virginia in mid October were breath-taking on my way back south from Mom's, even on a cloudy day. The last two weeks here on the NC Piedmont, on my daily drive have been equally lovely. My yard is cleared of leaves at the moment, but until late afternoon, I had a carpet of many colors out there from fallen leaves of maple, oak, dogwood, hickory and wild cherry on a windy weekend. The squirrels have already eaten most of the red berries on the dogwoods, but they were pretty while they lasted. The berries on the nandinas and holly are only preferred as survival fare by squirrels and birds and will last until at least mid January. On both species, the berries are ruddier by the day, and will be bright red soon enough to bring delight to the eye just when it is most appreciated in an otherwise subtle winter landscape.

Each fall now, I am reminded of the brilliant and terrifying beauty of the structure of my sister's emaciated face and body during her long dying time, of the vibrancy and depths of her deep and stark brown eyes. I remember the suffering, but also just as readily now recall, after all these years, the beauty and affirmations of love and connectedness, of exquisitely joyful times during her last two months where there was the joy of being fully present and fully together, immediately with no holds barred. Like the dogwoods, she up and went brilliant in the premature autumn of her life, and brought the rest of us along with her.

I'm in tears just now - but they are not tears of anguish. Feeling sorrow, yes, but the tears bring heart's ease, as does writing this and sharing these memories of sorrow and joy. I feel the gentle rocking of the water under the hull of the boat as we set out from harbor, and love the sound of the wind in the sails.

A little local (to me) landlocked chanty.... Beauty Lives