Good morning from… by the brook♡
Though most of our trees are still very much green, our brook residents have begun preparing for winter. The male Mallards are molting, revealing their green iridescent headdress, doing their best to look dapper for the dames. While the deer are discarding their red fur jackets in exchange for a darker brown, double layered winter coat. All seemingly unfazed with their inherent changes, just doing what comes natural to them.
This morning as I stood feeding my insatiable feathered friends, I caught a glimpse of the falling leaves. One after the other; some twirling and spinning, catching streams of air beneath their tips, making it appear as if they were dancing on their way down. Others just free falling, as if weighted by something, allowing the law of gravity to have its way. Life is like that I guess. Some days leave us feeling light and airy and others, well you just want to fall down like a heap of bricks… defeated.
I Quickly diverted my attention with a deep, full breath to either dissipate or possibly press down the emotional sensations moving upward into my throat.
Why does life have to be so trivial at times? Why can change feel so… off? Do you think maybe it’s just old ingrained stories, and deeply rooted emotions that rise to the top when something feels different? Why do certain seemingly small situations, seem to overwhelm us, causing a battle with gravity, pulling us down as we fight to fly. Wouldn’t it be so much easier is we could just do and be what came came natural? Or maybe that’s not the answer; maybe it’s those overwhelming, different situations that push us through the old stories and uprooted emotions. It gets exhausting sometimes, but like my resident friends I’m ready to shed my old coverings to prepare for winter. Wishing you all an effortless transition in the upcoming seasonal change♡
Much love to you all,
Maureen
Good morning from… by the brook♡
Happy first day of autumn. Just like clock work, Mother Nature and the weather man must have struck some sort of bargain, the warm summer winds gave way to a crisp chill. Pale yellow leaves have found their way down, peeking through the soft, tall blades of grass. The morning’s first light has not yet awakened, it seems a tad late. Maybe the moon has not yet clocked out, allowing the sun to sleep in just a wee bit more.
Across the brook a sizeable, silent silhouette floats past the towering trees that keep watch in the dark night. Then another smaller shadow scurries by to catch up. It must be one of the sweet fawn and it’s Mama on their way to breakfast before daybreak. Within moments of their passing fleetly, flapping, feathered, figures, (say that three times fast!) haphazardly drop from the dark sky, like mystical creatures returning home from a long night’s endeavor.
The sun unhurriedly rises above the tree tops, causing shimmering drops of dew to appear as twinkling prisms between the leaves. The shadows give way to reality and curiosity replaces fear, the brook, now buzzing with life.
Back from it’s early morning meal, a sweet fawn curiously inches toward the fallen, feathered creatures, causing delicate ripples to roll inward making them bob like rubber ducks at a carnival game.
Each morning the brook calls home its dwellers, offering them a sanctuary of nourishment. It’s no wonder they accept the invitation.
I too will be traveling beyond the brook today, as I have begun a seasonal venture. For many months I have remained here exploring endeavors that illuminate my soul, but alas I must leave the quintessence of the brook, allowing my shadows to give way to reality. I am so grateful to have heard its summoning and its urging to move beyond my fears. Curiosity has encouraged me toward places I didn’t know existed. Like the dwellers of the brook, I will always accept its invitation to return, for my inner compass will always point home.
Sending my love to you all,
Maureen xo
If you ever, even for a moment, need someone to hold space or maybe your hand, know I am here.
