Season Winding Down

I’ve got that end-of-summer feeling; how about you? Are you, like me, ready for change? It’s right around the corner, ready or not.

Around here, harvest is underway. It always gives me chills to see combines in the fields. We tend to equate spring with hope, but, by gum, combines bringing in the harvest look like satisfaction, accomplishment, and hope all wrapped up in one tidy bale to me.

Meanwhile, I’m in the backyard as much as possible. Change is happening there too. Once the canola harvest gets underway, flea beetles migrate to backyard gardens. There’s a mess of them in mine. I pulled the last of the radishes and lettuce the other day because, despite them being under row cover, the little buggers found a way in and were feasting. There are also hordes of some little green flying bug I don’t know the name of. And wasps. Ah yes, the wasps. They’ve shown up right on time, the ornery buggers.

Still, with things winding down in the garden, I can’t help but see something of the Divine when I’m out there. It calls me outside every morning and entices me to stay for as long as I can every day. I made a little video the other day of the wonder. Some of what I captured might not seem especially wonder-ful or miraculous, but I can assure you that’s what it is in my eyes. Have a watch, and see if you catch a glimpse of the magic too.

Today, Saturday, we got busy outside—Gerry pruning and doing the “blue” jobs I needed help with, and me harvesting what was left to harvest in the garden. Apart from the prolific Tiny Tim tomatoes that keep gifting us with tiny round red orbs and potatoes in bags that I’m holding off on, all that remains are flowers. And one lone apple on the tree Gerry planted last year. Oh, and the odd raspberry.

So, that’s a wrap. Early this year, but somehow right on time.

And so, my attention shifts to other things.

Like the trip we’re taking in a few weeks.

And returning to the routine of two weekly yoga classes.

And the two-year Growing in Wisdom program I’m starting in late September that’s designed for those seeking a spirituality for their wisdom years. The program is inspired by the Forest Dwelling Program at Oblate School of Theology in San Antonio, TX—but with a Canadian flavour. It’s been on my radar for quite a while, and I’m looking forward to the opportunity.

Seasons change, and with that comes bittersweetness while, at the same time, anticipation. We are grateful for what was, choose what to bring with us and what to leave behind, and look forward to what lies before us. That’s the cycle of life.