Hints

naked garden rests

twisted hinges, creaking winds

hints of hidden snow

Tiny Sacred Things • Day Two

native american spirituality teaches that fall is the season of letting go.

it's the season of change and replacing the old with new.

the trees know how to do this with spectacular grace.

Fall Treat

Apple Butter

7 cups unsweetened applesauce

2 cups apple cider

1 1/2 cups honey

1 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp. ground cloves

1/2 tsp. allspice

Combine in a crock pot and cook on low for 14-15 hours.

Pack while hot into 4 hot pint jars. Process in a hot water bath for 10 minutes after the water begins to boil again. Or refrigerate unprocessed jars until needed.

This is apple butter the easy way. It's not quite as thick as I might like, but the convenience of not having to stand at the stove (or over an open fire!) and stir for 5 hours straight makes up the difference!

Inspired Colors

{my three favorite colors – and I love them all together –

greens, purples and golden yellows}

Signs That Fall Is On the Horizon

:: The writing spiders have returned. That's what I grew up calling them anyway. I don't know what they are really called.

:: I had to turn the heat on in the car for the first time on my way to work yesterday morning.

:: The morning sky is a brilliant blue because all the humidity is gone.

:: There are frequent evening trips to Archie's for vanilla/orange twist ice cream in a cup. They will be closing for the year soon.

:: The pile of blankets in the living room has returned for evening snuggling.

:: The crockpot has come out of hiding and is being put back to work.

:: We can hear the marching band on Friday nights from Donnell Stadium.

:: I've only worn flip-flops once this week.

:: Honeycrisp apples are back!

:: Sweatshirts worn with shorts. . .the preeminent fall style!

What would you add to the list?

First Frost

The end of the growing season. The beginning of the resting time.

Click to make the images bigger. They are much prettier when you can see the little crystals of ice hanging there in the morning sun.

Breathing

Round and round the earth is turning

turning always into morning

and from morning round to night.

Those are the words to a little song we learned to sing in elementary school. I've been thinking about it this week as autumn is making her presence felt. In the morning there is darkness until it's time to leave for work and the shadows begin to lengthen before supper is even on the table. There's a chill in the air and last night the furnace roared to life for the first time since March.

Every year the approaching winter – it's scarcity of light and warmth – becomes a little bit more of a struggle for me. So, that little song has been on my mind.

Since I am powerless to change the season, my only option is to change myself.

Maybe what I need is a new perspective. The way I'm accustomed to thinking about the seasons is by the movement and circling that the Earth reveals. It's simple to see how the seasons move round and round but maybe there's another way to understand – perhaps the seasons are the Earth's rhythm of breathing in and breathing out.

In the Spring, the world could be beginning to breathe in. There is a collective lightness – a time when the Earth expands, a time when the soul broadens and widens. New life is drawn inward. Upward. Outward.

Perhaps Fall is just the Earth exhaling. There is a turning. A coming home. A restful quiet. In a certain sense there is a dying of expectation and an anticipation of some kind of inward work that will rest, strengthen and prepare us to take a new breath again in a few months time.

Right now, I'm feeling the need to get back to the most basic things that are fulfilling and life giving. I need to pray. To breathe. To meditate. To listen. To be gentle with myself and, most importantly, return to the source of my hope:

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

– Romans 8: 38-39

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Expansion and Contraction

It was about 45 degrees yesterday morning when I pulled out the long sleeved shirt and pants to go for a walk. For months it's been all shorts and t-shirts, but fall is announcing itself in the shorter days, in the blankets that have appeared all around the house and in the colors of the neighborhood trees.

I set out yesterday morning for the stadium to walk the steps but when I arrived there was already activity inside. They were putting the finishing touches on preparations for the afternoon football game – I could already smell the charcoal scent of grilling and hear the hammer strikes as they raised the VIP tents.

A bit disappointed that I was going to have to just walk instead of sweat a bit more on the steps, I took a route I don't normally take around the city. The sky was perfectly blue, not a cloud in sight. The sun was beginning to warm me up and I started thinking about fall.

I'm a person who's more comfortable with expansion in my life than I am with contraction. I love the stretched out days of summer with hours and hours of daylight. The enormous number of choices that being outside offers insure that I am almost never bored. As the days shorten and turn colder I find myself, both mentally and physically desiring to spin a cocoon. Wanting to hibernate. Dreading winter.

As I turned the corner, thinking about expansion and contraction, I headed down a sidewalk lined with stately old maple trees. They formed a canopy over the entire street. The light peeking through was filtered to a beautiful red-gold and as I looked up I could see patches of blue sky peeking through. In that exact moment, the breeze blew just enough to shower me in hundreds of red maple leaves. I stopped, looked to the sky and let them fall all around me.

Expansion and contraction. Green moves to red. Light moves to darkness. Soul warming heat moves to a bone numbing chill.

Outward moves to inward.

Perhaps these are the rhythms of life.

One Gallon of Milk Away

I got a shock this morning as I was pouring myself a bowl of Special K. (I like the kind with the strawberries by the way.)

I looked down at the gallon of milk that was sitting on the counter and saw this:

We are officially one gallon of milk away from summer being gone.

I don't know why I was suddenly so surprised. We were in Hobby Lobby last Saturday. They have two aisles of Halloween and Thanksgiving displayed. Dismayed, we saw at least ten aisles of Christmas. . .

One Tree – Three Weeks

November 4, 2008

November 10, 2008

November 17, 2008

Contradiction

Nature is paring back. Simplifying. It's shedding leaves and uncovering itself. It always seems peculiar to me, this time of year. As it gets colder and the wind begins to bite and pinch, everything outside seems to be shedding its protection. All the while I am searching out my winter coat, mittens and scarves in order to fortify myself. Seems like one of God's many contradictions. 

It's a strange time for Mother Nature to get naked. All I want to do from now until Spring is crawl under a heavy pile of blankets and take a nap.

Fall goes quickly. I took this photo on Wednesday.

Here is the same tree this morning.

The vivid oranges, reds and greens have faded to muted browns and greys. The sky has gone from being a beautiful blue to a gunmetal grey that seems to stay until March.

There is still beauty. You just have to look a lot harder.

That's my test this year. To look more carefully and practice more gratitude. Late fall and all of winter are a challenge for me. Maybe the trees have a lesson. As they simplify and rest, maybe I can too. There are fewer commitments necessary in the winter. Fewer opportunities to be outside and engaged. 

I want to take more time to create, think and dream this winter. Instead of hibernating, I hope to open my eyes a little wider, open my ears a little bigger and remember to say thanks a bit more often.

What the Walnut Tree Left Behind

Besides a dozen buckets full of nasty, rotten walnuts this is a tree that just keeps on giving. We looked up to find several squirrel nests. I suppose it's along the lines of pitching your tent in the drive-thru lane of McDonald's. I always knew they were smart little critters!

Color Walk

Random images from a walk we took with Sammy on Sunday afternoon. Fall colors amaze me.

If you click on the image it will open in a new window to see the photos with more detail.

Sammy's Field of Dreams

It was a beautiful weekend. On Saturday afternoon we took Sammy to the K-9 Field of Dreams at Riverbend Recreation Area. It's a one-acre, fenced, off-leash amusement park for dogs. I think Sammy thought he had died and gone to doggy heaven.

He was a little overwhelmed when we first arrived. As you entered through the double gates there was a welcoming committee of hounds waiting to pounce on the the new guy. He got a little anxious as he immediately got swamped by 4 or 5 big dogs. The fear lasted about 17 seconds. Soon all we saw of him was this:

He has the funniest looking flat out run – it's more of a frog hop, back end affair. I suppose he'll grow out of it but it's awfully cute for now.

Notice the fire hydrant he's running towards? Too funny. There's a "time out" pen for misbehaving canines; picnic tables for humans to sit and chat; a baby pool for dogs who like water and a small shelter house currently under construction.

Sammy made friends very quickly.

He played ball and "fetch the stick." He also played "you chase me and then I will suddenly chase you" with all his new friends. Whenever he got a little overwhelmed by all the newfound fun he would come back to the safe spot.

He came home a slobbery, sweaty, stinky mess. There's nothing quite like being around a happy dog. And that makes us all feel good.

Slow Sunday Afternoon

I sat out on the front porch late yesterday afternoon, soaking up the last of the sunshine. You never know in northwest Ohio when the sun is going to make it's final showing before chilly rain starts to fall. It seems like only weeks before that rain turns to snow and we won't feel the sun for many long months.

These are the mums decorating our front steps.

Every fall I start to crave warm things to drink. When I was a kid my mom used to make us a drink mix called Russian Tea. It was basically Tang – I'm old enough to associate that with astronauts and breakfast! – instant lemonade, unsweetened tea and spices that you mixed into hot water for a flavored tea drink.

This weekend I had a more grown up hot beverage on my mind – Chai.

I love a cup of something warm in the afternoons at work. Traditional chai is brewed, strained and then added to warm milk. I don't have the capacity to do all that at work, so I came up with a recipe that only needs hot water.

1 C. nonfat powdered milk

1 C. non-dairy powdered creamer

1 C. french vanilla flavored powdered creamer

2 C. white sugar

1 1/2 C. instant, unsweetened tea

2 t. ground ginger

2 t. ground cinnamon

1 t. ground cloves

1 t. ground cardamom

1 t. ground nutmeg

1 t. ground allspice

1/4 t. white pepper

Place all ingredients in a blender or food processor. Pulse or blend until it's a fine powder. Mix 3 tablespoons into a mug of hot water.

Fall flowers. Sunshine. Warm drink. I'm ready.