autumn fades towards winter

there's a full moon outside and instagram is full of people performing mercury retrograde full moon rituals. i'm not sure how much i believe in such things, but the full moon does feel like magic...even more so, these days as autumn turns into winter. we have foggy mornings and foggy evenings and i find myself taking the back way to get where i'm going, because then i can stop and capture such scenes. i think that sort of ritual may mean more than some fluffy mercury retrograde thing. what does that mean anyway? that mercury is fixing the gravel road with a vintage grader? give me a still forest, where i can stand listening to the silence, looking at how what light there is plays on the leaves, breathing it all in. now there's a ritual i can get my head around and i think it clears my path ahead more than anything else possibly could. health and prosperity, here i come!

dear autumn

dear autumn,

you and i used to have such a great relationship. you used to bring with you the promise of a new semester, the excitement of all of the new books to be read from a fresh syllabus, the comfort of a new university sweatshirt and the impending trip to the seminary co-op bookstore. when i close my eyes, i can hear the crunch of leaves, feel the crispness of your air in my nose. i'm enveloped by the memory of a new brown suede coat wrapped around me as i walk down 57th street and turn on woodlawn, so i can pass by the classic lines of frank lloyd wright's robie house as i head for campus. the golden sunshine is stunning on the red and orange leaves, making the day look warmer than it actually is.

these days, autumn, you fill me with a bit more dread. there's no new semester beginning, there's just the impending darkness of winter ahead. short, often grey days and relentless rain, wind sweeping in off the distant north sea to the west, the trees denuded before they even have a chance to change to glorious jewel tones.

autumn, you give way too easily to the darkness of winter in these latitudes, and that's why you fill me with dread. please be kind this year, with a few glorious golden days to look back on when the darkness comes.

your old friend,
/julie

scenes from a weekend

glorious, golden sunshine. a quick lunch with old friends. a nice drive and a good chat with a newer friend while getting there. and hours of finishing up a big wall painting at the library (photos of that soon). a bit of lawn mowing (it's weirdly my favorite thing). making 6 liters of mirabella plum juice. freezing a batch of raspberries. oven drying some more of those plum tomatoes. drinking not enough coffee and then drinking too much. wandering the garden with the camera. waiting for the lunar eclipse (it's actually clear here, so i've set my alarm). i'm not going to take photos of the eclipse, but just enjoy it (mostly because the child has my zoom lens and i'm thinking the 50mm fixed won't really cut it). and just generally trying to keep busy while i wait (once again). this time, tho', there is an end in sight to the waiting. please send good vibes my way!

an extra glorious hour

the time changed back to winter time this morning. it feels like such a gift, that extra hour. i used it very wisely, curled up under the quilts with my laptop and a cup of tea (precisely the right temperature and precisely the right amount of milk and honey), catching up on blogs and pinning to pinterest.

i'm strangely ready for winter this year. and i haven't minded autumn at all. usually, it fills me with dread, as the darkness approaches. but days like this - glorious, glittering frost - are worth it. and i love wearing sweaters and my furry boots again. bring on the winter!

our 5th annual halloween party was a big success. the kids take the costume thing seriously and now that they're in the 6th grade, they require less supervision (tho' perhaps i should have been in the room to discourage that popcorn fight). they were sent around in the dark on an orienteering run, rather than a treasure hunt per se. it was timed. and at one post, they had to find the letter (they were gathering letters) in a bucket of slimy liver and oatmeal soup that husband made. we always have to have something gross. and there's always a boy who is willing to get his hands all dirty. sometimes even some of the girls are willing. but honestly, there are some things that are just boy jobs.

they're good kids. but even tho' they're good kids, you can still see who is popular and who is not, if only from the looks on their faces when they think no one is looking. they're starting to verge on teenagers, getting slightly awkward and less comfortable wholeheartedly playing. but all of them, boys and girls alike, enjoyed shooting balloons with a bb gun and bobbing for apples. it's good to have these traditions.

this afternoon, we'll go see the new james bond, skyfall. i've heard nothing but good things about it. i'll let you know...

happy sunday, one and all. use your extra hour wisely.

these are the things we will remember

building a trampoline in the waning hours of sunshine on an autumn day.
carving awesome pumpkins.
the first jump on the new trampoline.
a basket of baby bunnies.

annual halloween parties.

scary (in a good way - for halloween) uncles.

treasure hunts.

broken pinkies.

chasing the chickens away from the cat food.

life. lived. every day.

what are you going to remember?

sunrise - sunset

sunrise 

sunset

sunrise, sunset
sunrise, sunset
swiftly fly the years
one season following another
laden with happiness and tears.

(from fiddler on the roof)
(photos from my day)

dear autumn

autumn, you can be discordant and pushy - blustery and demanding attention one second and demurely bathing us all in a golden glow the next. you're nothing if not unpredictable. maybe that's why i like you so much. even tho' your winds are whipping fine drops of rain into my face every time i step outside today, there are also the last bright flowers to be gathered in the garden and brought in to brighten up the indoors.

oh autumn, you're so demanding and real and just so THERE.

thank you for that.

a sparkling spider kind of a morning

you've got to love autumn. for the light. and the spiders. who are apparently out partying all night, come home late, possibly drunk. and then spin their webs. in a state of drunken confusion. i'd like to have caught them in the act, but it seemed they had all gone to bed to sleep off their hangovers.

hints of autumn in the air

autumn:

~ morning fog
~ crisp, clear air
~ crunchy leaves
~ a riot of colors
~ golden evening light
~ a sense of winding down
~ the bounty of the garden coming inside
~ the smell of sweet-spicy, vinegar-laden chutneys simmering on the stove.
~ hooded sweatshirts
~ scarves
~ crisp, sweet apples from the tree
~ amber honey
~ horses and bunnies growing fuzzier

...and it's only just beginning.

*  *  *

for a number of years, i've dreaded the autumn because it signaled our coming northern darkness. but this year it's different. i'm ready for the change in rhythm that autumn brings. for the slowing down. for the reaping of what's been sown. for the cool, clear air and the morning fog. i think i'm even ready for the darkness to eventually settle upon us. it's probably this life closer to the land and to the rhythms of nature that makes it feel right. it feels like the best season is just beginning.

wordless wednesday: autumn sunshine

that time of year

just a pretty picture of our backyard to look at while i snuggle up in bed with a mound of books and a mug of tea. i'm fighting it off valiantly and i think i'm winning. it seems everyone has the flu, swine or otherwise. it's just that time of year. frankly, i hope it is swine flu, somehow that seems more exciting. in the meantime, check out the comfort foods for those under-the-weather days, over on domestic sensualist.

at the change of seasons

at these transitional points of year, as summer turns to autumn and autumn fades towards winter, i always get introspective. last year, that introspection led me to change jobs in order to have more time for the things that matter. now, i find myself reflecting on what i've done with that time i gave myself. maybe it's because i felt like i haven't been utilizing it well for the past week. i have a bunch (seven, to be exact) of different articles in progress and feel more or less stuck on all of them.  it's been great to be working mostly at home for almost a year now, but is it time for something new? would i be more productive if i went to an office every day again? i guess what i'm interested in is why i'm so stuck at the moment.

i think it started a few weeks ago when we had husband's old management group over for dinner on a tuesday night. because i'm working at home, i was, of course, home all day, so i was able to prepare the dinner (a big mess of fajitas) and dessert (a pavlova and some creamy, rich chocolate cups). my sister was here, but she had a lunch appointment, so she didn't come home to help 'til late afternoon.

when everyone arrived, i was wearing an apron over my little black j. peterman dress (dang, it's on sale now!). after all, i didn't want a bunch of fajita juice all over it. while husband took everyone outside to show them around the new place and for welcome drinks, monica and i finished up the dinner. we ate the dinner and according to plan, everyone raved over the food. i messed up the pavlova, because i don't really know my oven so well yet, so it was a bit crispy on the bottom [read: burned] and i foolishly didn't actually notice that 'til i had already served it to everyone. so, i joked and told them to avoid eating the very bottom. all very relaxed.

one of the group was a woman in my age group, who is in charge of payroll at husband's work (not a small company, so this is a significant position). she voiced political opinions that were more than a bit disturbing (anti-immigrant with an immigrant in the room!). she also joked the entire evening about firing people, mostly to her male colleagues, indicating to me that she felt a need to show she was as tough as the boys. she made comments that made me think that she thought i was a hausfrau (one of my worst fears). but later, when i thought about the apron, i guess i could understand her perception. in short, she totally rubbed me the wrong way in her white french-cuffed tailored blouse.

i suppose in a way, it made me feel a bit insecure. the thought that i could be perceived as a hausfrau almost as horrifying as anything i could imagine. i felt a strange compulsion to prove myself as a career woman and kept making reference to my previous employer (the other big company in denmark), as a means of proving my own testosterone levels. and afterwards, i felt bad about the whole thing. how pathetic that i felt the need to prove myself to some twat [pronounce this in your head as hugh grant would pronounce it and it will sound as i mean it to sound] who i will never meet again and who i could honestly care less about? why did i waste a single moment of angst or regret on this person who so clearly doesn't matter one iota in my life?

did she dig up something deeper in me? some feeling of dissatisfaction within myself? is it time for me to move on to whatever is next, rather than holding here in the liminal space? am i really holding? or is it just that i can't accept how actually totally awesome my situation is? i have the privilege of mostly working at home, so i'm here to take my daughter to school and pick her up. i sit all day at my gorgeous iMac and i write about things that fascinate me (when i can write, which i currently cannot, which is part of the problem) and then i travel to wonderful places, meet great people who stimulate me intellectually and professionally, eat fantastic food and stay in awesome hotels. are you serious, what's not to be satisfied about?

so, why am i feeling restless? why can't i just enjoy the here and now? why do i get all tied up in knots and restrict my own ability to finish the things i'm working on? is it just the changing of seasons? or is it something more? and how do i get to the bottom of it?

a perfect autumn day

i arrived home very early this morning. another of those jarring transitions from 30 degrees, high humidity and smog to the clear, crisp, sunny fall weather in denmark. it's about 15 degrees, light breezes and sunshine. THE perfect weather for donning my new gap sweatshirt (from the boy's section, why don't they make non-zip hoodies for women anymore?), some walking shoes and going mushroom hunting in the forest.

i had to take some pictures of the last of the summer flowers using my new macro lens. there was already frost once while i was away, but in the greenhouse, it only got down to 3 degrees, so the dahlias are still going strong.

i doubt the melons will really get a chance to be ripe before the real frost comes, even in the greenhouse, but they look pretty now anyway.

the hydrangea are finishing up, but i absolutely love them at every stage. they're wonderful!

the chocolate cosmos look so autumn-y:

the little japanese acer is a blaze of color:

and the rowan trees are loaded with their berries. i love to pick these clusters and make an autumn wreath for the door and this year it feels like i have the time and energy to do things like that again.

but first, a whole mess of these are going into the freezer so we can have an apple pie at thanksgiving:

i just love fall, don't you?