Breathing Autumn In

In all the busyness of autumn, and our calendar is simply chock-full, it's still so important to me and my family to try and find those quite moments, those fleeting gifts, the change in the slant of light and be grateful for the beauty and bounty and transformation that the harvest season offers. The gifts are many. The kids keep getting taller and I swear to you, light years more intelligent than myself, so that each day I find myself struck with awe and wonder while in their presence.

Adam does research at the Gulf of Maine Research Institute



and Olivia has just joined a Maine Envirothon team.



Then there are the lovely, almost magical evening walks through the nearby state park, long after the gates have been locked and sundown is upon us. On a recent walk, we discovered mushroom after mushroom, which seemed rather serendipitous. The variety and the number of mushrooms we spotted while on that walk was truly amazing. A return walk just two nights later, and most of the mushrooms were gone, so it was a magical discovery indeed.














In this transition season, as in spring, our garden and all the nature around us changes by the minute, it seems. The trees have just put on their colors when the gales and rain yesterday landed yellow maple leaves and red pine drops all over our doorstep and as suddenly if feels as if we went from early fall to expecting a frost any morning now.





Our beloved farm stand is open this weekend and then closing until July, so we scurry like the squirrels gathering nuts, to gather our potatoes, onions and pumpkins.









This time of year, I appreciate the quiet and the serenity of the ocean, the quality of light and taste of autumn on the breeze.





I think we're all grateful for these small respites, these moments that we pause in our crossing off another calendar day and we measure the season by its slant of light, scents, bounty and fleeting beauty. We breathe autumn in before it passes.