The wind and rain have taken many leaves and some trees are looking quite bare. Others have held tight, refused to give up anything yet to winter. The nights are cold making mornings outside too chilly until the sun wipes his eyes and comes fully awake near noon.
I have spent two days and one more to go of merely boxing up tea pots and cups preparing for coming wall and ceiling work. I have taken pictures down, folded tablecloths, but have top of kitchen cabinets left to do. Mind you, this is not furniture moving yet, only small pieces of “stuff. It is amazing what I have accumulated. I feel strange taking down my own things, wrapping in tissue, and boxing like I am ending something. I wonder if I need these beloved things at all…would life be easier with cleared table tops?
Yesterday as I ran to town for more tissue paper, I noted the change in trees but kept moving on myself thinking that is what we all do…keep going, keep changing. I was coming down the street when I saw the Murray Tree and had to pull the car over to exalt its loveliness. Every year we watch for this tree to change as it is a beauty. This year while other trees were at their peak, this one had not even begun to change! We figured it would be a year it just did not perform. The Murrays have been dead for years and the house falls into ruin while descendants refuse to settle the estate. Yet every year, this tree flames full of color, full of a last burst of life at the end of summer. So this year was to be no different, just late.
The beauty of the Murray Tree made me think of my writing. Would it be slow and late too? Would it burst forth in the middle of a winter snow storm and astound me (and editors too!) with powerhouse words I stacked together? I can only hope this is true. No lines will be written in the next few weeks of sheetrock dust and plaster! But I can hope that like the Murray Tree I will eventually show marvelous creations even if late in the season!