A story of season. Just to keep moving.
Season is a good enough way to continue, after all it’s about life. And death . And everything in between. Capsulized. Like an ongoing course in just going. Since we moved here, (can it be three years?) we enjoy not interrupting it all by tidying. Our leaves blow down into the forest over the winter months, and not into neighboring yards. All the rest get caught by the stone walls that surround us or remain as a needed blanket . We can just watch. I’ll mulch when it seems time. And I will mow a small path so I can wander tick free.
The usual open air ceremony for the cloth I call Spin took new form this year. I imagined it, by layering photos. Imagining, we are so lucky to have that. Especially in these crazy days. I was just thinking… we might lose it if we don’t use it.
Since I am in the process of moving my blogging here (I think I am getting the hang of it) and also my teaching site is shut down for a while because I need to fix it, I thought I might just put a video here from one of my old classes, as a video embed test and as a bit of content while I fiddle. An excerpt from Small Journeys, October 25th, 2014. When season was on my mind…
If you live long enough, everything old becomes new again. Especially if you don’t remember. I think I still feel the same. Like dancing.
Thanks for being a travelling companion.