Nate’s Notes: Momma’s Journal

I think she knows I’m reading her journal because she just keeps leaving it right where I can reach it…even if climbing is involved.  I am pretty agile though.  I have mad walking skills now.   Anyway, we’ve been outside a lot lately and here’s what she has to say about all that.

“I always start grieving on the first day of summer.  Conversely, I start celebrating on the first day of winter because I know the coming months bring the promise of more daylight, strengthening warmth from the sun, and the promise of wildflowers galore.  However, the first day of summer means a shift of progressively shorter days,  less daylight, the threat of cooler days and nights, rain, and being stuck inside during my least favorite months of the year. 

Maybe it’s because we have Nathaniel now and I get so much pleasure from showing him the beauty and power of nature.  Or maybe it is because I now have the privilege of “seeing” the world daily by taking photographs as part my work.  Either way, I am beginning to notice the beauty of these shifting days in a way I’ve never appreciated before.  The warm hues and long shadows of autumn days have always captured me. But I usually become a bit melancholy when the leaves have all fallen and the rain begins.   It rained for a few days last week, and after I took dozens of photos of the raindrops on our windows, I almost gasped at their beauty when I saw them on my computer screen later that night.  The cooler nights mean we have started building fires to heat the house (our only source of heat is our wood burning stove).  The splendor of the dancing and glowing flames isn’t easy to capture in a picture…but I sure tried!!  That first rain turned our hills from the summer gold to a gleaming, winter green in a matter of days.  Our house is hugged by acres of oak and pine trees, and the moss on these trees is alive with the new moisture, bursting with a majesty that demands you take notice.  The grapevines that surround us in our wine valley are the prettiest now, after the harvest has come and gone, each leaf a painting of colors. 

In early December, I may be singing a different, more anguished song (okay, just good ‘ole whining);  But for now, I can’t be anything but grateful for realizing the unique beauty that each new day brings.  Now to get my camera…

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