Instead of a neighbourhood walk, I took a quick drive to a local trail and strolled around the area. Aside from one man with a very serious looking camera and another zipping along in bike-racing gear, the place was devoid of people.
Full of life,
just not much of the human variety.
Walking provides a good opportunity to mull over ideas,
to appreciate what life has to offer,
and to consider how I want to spend some of my time.
I've been thinking about doing some volunteer work and have planted a few seeds.
I'm waiting to see which of them, if any, take root.
Maybe it's because this is the autumn of the year, and the autumn of my life, that I'm feeling prompted to do things now instead of "one day".
The reflections in this stream are ephermeral, changing with the weather.
Apparently, I'm engaging in a few reflections of my own.
After a rainy Saturday, today is a cool, sunny day.
The soft ground is just right for digging and planting. I didn't get all of the bulbs in the earth, but some of the tulips and all of the narcissi are in the soil. There is still much more to do: beds to tidy and edge, roses to wrangle, and more bulbs to plant. This week.
If it's possible to have a few pleasant aches, then that's what I have now; they're the sort that arise from having enjoyed time outdoors while getting yard work done.
The tools are put away,
a bouquet has been picked,
and all that is called for is . . .
knitting a few rows,
then curling up in the comfy chair to read.
If the novel happens to be set in Florence, which I shared with you here, so much the better.
I've been enjoying my new habit of a little walk before breakfast and another in the evening, about 1.5 miles each time It may not be everyday, but it has been almost all of them in the past week and a half.
One morning took me out of the neighbourhood and up over a bridge, where I paused to take a look at the train tracks heading east, wondering where people would be heading and why they'd be going there.
Another day found one nearby park in its misty, morning mantle.
I'm also fond of longer walks. A friend and I shared an impromptu stroll in the woods, after a delicious lunch at her home. That's one way to wear off a meal and a good place to chat about life.
Yesterday, it was a different forest to explore with my hiking group. We head out to a new location every month and hike for about 90 minutes. I find I can breathe in a forest.
It seems appropriate that Thanksgiving coincides with the bountiful harvest time. Farmers' markets remain open and local apple orchards are inviting people to come and pick their own fruit on these beautiful, blue-skied, autumn days.
I was one of those picking apples this weekend and now need a plan for how to use a half bushel bag of them; the signs in the collage show only some of the varieties grown at this particular orchard.
Apple sauce, apples roasted with root vegetables, apple slices for the freezer . . .
If you have a suggestion, please share.
Happy Thanksgiving to you, whether or not it is being celebrated in your country.
Thank you for your visits, comments, "follows", and "likes" on Facebook.
A cardio class, followed by an appointment, and a then bit of grocery shopping means that it's almost time to snuggle in on a rainy Monday, after a brief stroll in the garden.
There are still some roses and, finally, a few sweet pea blooms. (Those of you who visit on Facebook saw this photo.) When visiting friends in England, a few years ago, I remember the masses of sweet peas each woman grew and the fragrant bouquets brought inside. Perhaps that will be the case with my garden next year.
I'm still enjoying tomatoes, long may they produce.
The sky may be grey, but that just enhances the brightness of these tall beauties.
The Black-eyed Susans are almost finished, but I like the red stems with the golden petals and how summer flowers merge into the next season and become a part of autumn's loveliness.
The old song says, "Rainy days and Mondays always get me down."