The Harvest of Roses.

Living outside the city limits, there are certain mundane tasks which necessitate attention. Garbage is one such concern. Periodically – usually every four to six weeks – I hook up the trash trailer, then drive seven miles to the county landfill.

I have always had a bizarre fascination with the place, partially due to the presence of eagles. They group together there, sometimes in the multiples of dozens, spotting the surrounding trees like larger brown and white clumps.

Dignified. Garbage pickers, really. But they are glorious birds, prone to the advantages of predation and scavenge.

This past trip oddly presented only one such bird. It sat boldly, closer than normal and surprisingly not wary of me snapping photos.

The photo, like its subject, grabs at me. Originally I wanted to use it as a finale to a month or a period of time. I’m not sure why. And I probably still will, but I wondered at that need of mine. Summarize my time? Why would I summarize?

I’m also not sure why the photo caused me to stall. The most important part of the whole personal process was not the analysis of the summarizing, but the conclusion. It meant conclusion.

A conclusion means there is room for a beginning.

Eagles, in my family, symbolize spirit and reverence. And cause all of us to think, pausing, maybe even prayer and gratitude. My wise mother believes eagles are signs of my father.

I like to think that such signs are reminders. I might have been dirtier than dirty while disposing of household garbage and turning in four foot tube light bulbs (thirty of them from the Matthias building). I could be smelly with smells of humanity.

And there stood the eagle. I would like to think now that I had been thinking of dumping the past. Perhaps that is true. As I look at its photo, I see the majesty of the gift of beginnings.

Pumpkins and Roses.

Pumpkins. I should be decorating with pumpkins and dried wheat. And burnished leaves. I am getting there, but along the way to traditional autumn decorating, I hadn’t banked on the crop of roses my gardens produced.

Well into the month of October, the Wisconsin weather remains in the 60’s and 70’s for temperature. The autumn sunshine still heats the shortened days which means well into October, I am harvesting roses!

I really have roses! I never imagined my little gardens would produce any florets, but they have! Their admirable health is more a salute to modern genetics than any testimony to my green thumb abilities. I am in awe of them. And I’m pleased with being so pleased of some aspect of life which is simple and lovely.

The mix of autumn leaves turning to reds and golds, plus the softness of white, red and peach roses, create a new tapestry to the fall. I am fairly certain, as I remind myself, that the combination of pumpkins and roses must have been experimented. But I am enchanted with the idea!

The mix of autumn leaves turning to reds and golds, plus the softness of white, red and peach roses, create a new tapestry to the fall. I am fairly certain, as I remind myself, that the combination of pumpkins and roses is not new. It must have been experimented. But I am enchanted with the idea that for me pumpkins and roses are new (magical, even).

Welcome, October! I hope you have eagle sightings. I hope you have moments of delight in the colors of autumn.

And mostly, I wish you love.

Lots.

(And of course, a kiss to boot!)

~Stephanie, tbd.

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