Going underground

On my walk, I saw this woodpile that a neighbour has prepared, ready for the cold nights that are getting closer.
Creatures are burrowing underground, finding nooks and crannies to huddle away in. Ants have been pouring into my kitchen and into every little-used cupboard, seeking out winter shelter.

And I had to chuckle when I realised what the workmen were up to down the other end of our street: why, moving the powerlines from poles to underground.

It's called an Undergrounding Project.

There they are, snug in their orange pipes.

I wonder if powerlines hibernate too, and if in the spring they will come bursting through the earth again, and sprouting power poles on which to climb.

Basking

I'm basking in the glow of the autumn retreat that I led in the weekend.
It was so rich, being in the good company of others from many spiritual traditions.
The many seeds of autumn are still with me: shiny flax seeds, kauri cone segments, golden kowhai seeds, and from the northern hemisphere, acorns and a head of wheat.
I know I'm seeding too, and it's a mystery to be unfolded.
Autumn is drawing me within, to the quiet space of gestation.

Nature always wears the colours of the spirit. (Emerson)

Simplicity

In the golden weather of autumn, which keeps extending itself, day by day, I sit on the beach. With Mira, it's very simple. Just be there. Enjoy. Play in the sand.

 Watch the boats sailing by,

while Mira finds her own solution to sandcastles that won't come whole out of the bucket. She just puts the bucket back over the crumbled pile and continues to build on top of it, and all around. While I've made a mound, Mira tells me she's making a mountain.
When you are two and a half, imagination always finds a way. With Mira, life is simple.

I just sat

I played truant and took a bit of time off in the middle of the day to go out to the bach. There I took time to just sit in the garden, in a patch of sun, between showers.

I heard the sea's distant roar.

I caught the rhythm of the wind, heaving great sighs and then growing still.

I saw a pumpkin vine that had clambered up a tree, but lost its fruit.

I felt a sigh of release pass through me, after the pressure of busy days.

I found my gumboots still in the garden, starting to fill with water.

I tasted kawakawa tea, peppery and perky.

I offered gratitude for this pocket of peace.

Seeds of hope

Happiness is working in my bach garden. After harvesting my butternut, tomatoes and capsicums in the weekend, I started clearing weeds and dead plants, then preparing the soil for new planting. At the end of the day I'd planted two rows of carrots. The moon was waning, which is a good time to plant root veges, and the soil is still warm enough for them to do some growing before winter.
It always feels hopeful to begin a new cycle, even if it gets sneaked in between seasons.

Harvest

I can still buy fine capsicums and courgettes from the organic growers up the road, and now they've brought in their harvest of butternuts.

I reached the bach after a few weeks away, not sure what I'd find in my own modest garden, especially after the rain had come. My capsicums are rather small, but very bright and tasty.

I harvested just one butternut, because the others died when I wasn't here to water them. Just one butternut, but it's the first one I've ever grown, and I know it will taste special.

I also picked the last tomatoes, and uprooted the plant, which was very ready to be composted.

And the sweet basil, although it's now flowering,  still has some fragrant leaves to add to my vegetable casserole.
It's a modest garden, and I'm not here to tend to it every day, but somehow it's produced enough to keep me satisfied.

Beach magic

It was a perfect day at the beach today, the last of daylight saving. The beach gave me one gift after another. First, these tiny fish, flicking rapidly through the shallow stream that feeds into the beach lagoon.

Then, feathers everywhere, having dropped from birds just as leaves are getting ready to drop from trees.

The freshness of the waves breaking on rocks down the south end of the beach.

Treasures on the sand, beautifully arranged by Nature's hand.

And finally, kelp for my garden. I untangled a good sized hank from this bundle, and dragged it home, feeling happy and lucky to have been able to get out to the coast for this special day.