Photo by Jon Sullivan - Creative Commons
"I am renewed by death, thought of my death,
The dry scent of a dying garden in September,
The wind fanning the ash of a low fire.
What I love is near at hand,
Always, in earth and air."
The dry scent of a dying garden in September,
The wind fanning the ash of a low fire.
What I love is near at hand,
Always, in earth and air."
The Far Field by Theodore Roethke
We have sent out September with a bonfire at the lake. Friends with drum and crystal bowls played the Harvest Moon up over the mountain while the coyotes called back and forth across the vineyards and orchards upon the hills. The ducks moved in and out of our circle, muttering because we had not brought them bread. We had brought food for the fire though. Good wood and herbal offerings. There were apples, straight from the tree, passed around. And marshmallows, of course.
Petitions were burned. Notes to spirit, letters of release.
It was a lovely way to see September end. As I wait up for October, I am thankful. For the beauty and the bounty. For the heat that stayed long and the gardens that gave much. For the golden light and the cooler evenings.
September really is the very best prequel to Autumn.
I hope this month has been generous to you!