Saturday, October 7, 2017

“The physical eye is meant to say to the spiritual eye, ‘Not this, but the Maker of this, is the desire of your soul.’”

~ John Piper, A Peculiar Glory

I am in the yard photographing the brilliant, and changing, colours of the Virginia creeper vine. I meant to come out earlier when the light was better but . . . life. So now, in the middle of,the day when the light is bright—nice for walking and observing, less so for photographing—I adjust camera settings and click away hoping for the best.

It occurs to me that my afternoons in the yard looking for magic are numbered. Soon (I hope not too soon) it will turn cold and snow will blanket it all. What then? I’ve grown accustomed to shooting creation’s magic but I dislike the cold and it’s unlikely I’ll spend much time outside with my camera during the winter months.

Things change, I’ll find other stories to tell, life will carry on. Truth is, I’m ready for the season to change; there’s a part of me that’s even looking forward to winter.

I still have garden produce to tend to (I need to get that Sungold tomato jam done, there’s a pile of green tomatoes slowly ripening in my laundry room, and I have peppers to chop and tuck away in the freezer), and there are things I want to add to the canning shelves (split pea soup and Quebec pork meatballs), but I’m feeling weary from the summer’s work and ready for the season of hygge.

I’ve learned to embrace autumn with it’s slower pace and changing beauty, just as I’ve come to appreciate the winter and the season of books, quilts, reading socks, and fireplaces. This appreciation for what comes, as opposed to struggling against, is one of the unexpected, and very much appreciated, gifts of this time of life.

Just now I lean in closer to the red vine on my back fence looking for magic and, wouldn’t you know it, there it is.


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. What beautiful, vibrant leaves! In ND, there are mostly just yellows and browns, and I miss the vibrant reds and oranges from my east coast home. Thank you for sharing! Fall is definitely here, and we expect frost this week. I did a little fall carving of pumpkins (with the grands) yesterday, and I’m making Taco Soup today.

    1. I loved the photos you posted on FB of you and your family carving pumpkins, Karen, precious memories being made there.

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