renewed as the dew

"I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter...."

Do you remember the night, a few days back- when you walked through the gardens and the sunflowers cast moon shadows behind them?  Remember how it gave you pause, as if their down turned faces were shyly smiling still- through their yellow petaled bangs?  And do you recall how it made you stop, steadfast and look back at your own shadow?  And in that moment, did not all the world seem aglow with moonlight, which is more tender and forgiving...perhaps making all walking the street, lost out in the great world- feel a bit as though we are all so much alike in our shadows?  The same color, softened edges- the moon light ardently shining on our heads, faces- forgiving us our days missteps?  Is it not a blessing to be cast in that gentle light, as all and everything is, in September?

 How you wondered out loud- where the summer went too?  Autumn coming  on the heels of a very dry spell, watering was worrisome as the well might be made to run dry, so the tomatoes in the hoop house had to learn to survive without constant watering and monitoring and still, they grew red and lovely, the recollection now saw concern back then when there was no real cause to worry.  Things grow as they are apt to do.  With or without intervention from a concerned gardener...you mustn't worry so.  Every year, about this time- September, it is as though your perception becomes keener, you are more willing to let things be as they are.

It is cool enough at night that bugs no longer burden you, it is only the sliver of light over head that guides you into the following days of compressed wonder.  The lighted hours shortening, the plants bursting with what energy they have left, in their final and full regard for life.  Bees weighed down gleefully with pollen so thick on their legs that it is a wonder they can still fly on to more collection sites, yet they set off again and again-seemingly unburdened.

 Ah, sweet September- the summer brought so much to handle, to work through, heating up the compost- but what has come of it?

  All that my eyes see now, are prayers answered.  I look to heaven in the web, in the golden rod and flower beds.  I see the pearly gates in the glistening of dew on the trellises, heavy with morning glories.  And there, an angel- praying before it's precise movement towards a meal of a tiny moth- unaware of the mantis warrior camouflaged as the very stem they both share.  And in the evening, the cool blue heavy evenings- comes a mist now that blankets the shadows, the sunflowers, the soul's misgivings- a sweet forgiveness shrouds all and I will sleep renewed as the dew.

Dew Notice

That Which Perpetuates Good

Sometimes I wonder why people do what they do in terms of a living.  Some I suspect just do what they have to - to get by, feed their families, make the payments.  I know this farming thing is a tough gig, but it's a workout all the same and keeps me plenty busy, meeting just about every need I have- spiritual, physical, emotional.  I have worked many jobs in my lifetime, most of those meeting the first criteria of doing what I had to do just to get by, but I always grew something.  I felt immense pride and joy in putting food on the table that I grew.  The kids would always roll their eyes after every exclamation-"Came from the garden kids!"  Or at the winter table-"These pickles were grown right here, by golly- last July, aren't they good?"  More eye rolling, more sense of embarrassment when their friend happened to be eating with us.  "Mom is such a hippy!"  (I'm too young to be a hippy....)  I think now though, the kids are happy with the jams that come their way, via the postal service these days.  I dream that they sit at their tables, buttering their bread and smiling big as they glob on big spoons of homemade goodness from Mom's garden...kids are kind of reluctant to let you know when something as soft and gooey as jelly touches their heart.  My aim is always there, past their stomach and through to their tickers.

I have always encouraged my children to vote, taking them to the booths with me, explaining the process ...it was a big deal, something when they were little they boasted about at school, displaying proudly the flag sticker that went along with vote casting.  I know Emma is a registered voter, not sure on the other two- I recall hearing of Em's first vote, the memory recalled by her with pride.  But I also hope I instilled something just as important as that vote- which, in all honesty does not carry the weight it once did.  Nowadays- I vote with my bucks.  I try to perpetuate the good being done by those who take from the land and give more back.  Those who handmake  clothing and use resources close to home which helps their local economy out.  I try to buy from the guy that makes pillowcases and donates a dollar of every sale to a program that offers shoes to children who don't have any.  I buy glasses upon glasses of lemonade from the local 4-H who are trying to get needed funds for camps and learning excursions.  Imported stuff does not get my vote.  If the catalog business imports everything, I recycle their rag and purchase nothing from them.  I shop at Goodwill- apt name.  I'm a shopaholic for good will.  Buy USA gets my vote, if only more folks would vote-perpetuate with their bucks local shops and American made- the white washed big box stores might cease to send out all our "votes" to overseas corporations where the workers are treated inhumanely, I do not wish to perpetuate that.  Now there are some who'll say-"but those workers need that job!"  That may be so, but if the workers here are barely hanging on- my "vote" may just help them to get a better hold and gain solvency which perpetuates more jobs here....and so on and so on.

Perpetuates gets a bad image these days.  It does not necessarrily mean a negative.  It has only been reported as such- when a story needs the loudest vibe,  news people abuse the term- "Hitler perpetuates...", "KKK perpetuates....",  etc.  And I can definitely see why it was used, it is a looking through a smoky, scary lens until all the awe and mayhem can come into complete cloudy focus.  But there is another view, a deeper, hopeful and clearer lens- that which perpetuates good, positive and powerful change.  Seeing like that begins with our vote, our buck, our relationship with money that might truly turn the tide, little by little.
I ask you to deeply consider your wallet, the votes in it- what does that next purchase perpetuate?

Take care-