In the morning, when Gerry takes Maya out for her morning constitutional, he finds evidence of a visitor on the front lawn and in the evening we watch three hungry black bears amble by on the other side of the fence in the back yard.

In between, amid hugs and laughter (and maybe a few tears), we say goodbye to Laurinda and Makiya. We feel kind of restless after they leave—the house is SO quiet after the weekend activity—so we go for a drive on country roads where I sip coffee and speak of my lingering melancholy while Gerry comments on subtle changes in the green on the trees.

Now Labour Day is over and we’re on a trajectory toward fall. The forecast still looks like summer but I’m developing a yen for cozy. It’s a funny in-between time.

The garden is still generous with offerings of squash, tomatoes, cucumbers, and Swiss chard. A second sowing of beans is about to flower, beets grow larger day by day, and the single long loofa I’ve babied throughout the season gets bigger and fatter every day. It’s my prize this year and the first thing I inspect when I go to the garden. I look at other things with an eye toward pulling them out. Spiders and their sticky webs are everywhere.

In the quiet of an early September morning I watch the eastern sky change and can’t help but worship. Then I turn my gaze back into the room where I sit and remind myself that the Presence is just as much here as it is out there. I close my eyes and whisper prayer. Even in the in-between, maybe especially in the in-between, I seek and find and am filled.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
  1. Our nemesis is not bear, but deer who delight in nibbling off hibiscus buds just before they are ready to burst into bloom.

    Time to worship . . . !

  2. Such a warm, fuzzy, good-feel piece this morning. Yes, this in-between time is soothing and maybe a time for us to prepare for the next hectic season that will be upon us before we know it. Thanks, Linda.

  3. Warm fuzzies eased off my computer screen and wrapped around me as I read your words. Yesterday afternoon winds began to build and by nightfall we were hearing things go bump in the night on our roof. Worse yet, the smoke from fires in Washington and around Mt. Hood began drifting through in late afternoon turning the skies orange and rust. Somehow the smoke came sneaking into our home and that smell! So I needed these warm fuzzies, and I have you to thank! May your week be a blessing, Linda.

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