Morning Ponder

There is something about the longer shadows across the garden and the cooler mornings that draws me outdoors.

The first leaves are beginning to loosen their hold and drift among the windfalls. The fall garden is unfolding, and the sheep are moving out of the shade.

This morning, it was the light.

It settled into the fleece of an ewe and her lamb chewing their cud, slipped through the tansy and turned the field beyond the fence gold.

I looked for the things I may have missed in yesterday’s bustle. A feather signalling that the chickens are beginning their molt.

Back on my porch, I pour a cup of tea and make a few notes, setting them alongside what I’ve collected, things that caught my eye. A small record of what I noticed, so I might remember it.

Perhaps paying attention is its own kind of tending.

The season will change whether I notice it or not.

I would like to notice.