Out my window I see the dark shadows of trees waiting for grandmother Moon to climb above their branches.

This is the time when I mourn summer passing, seen in the petals that settle on the patio stones, which are themselves cool to the feet. Leaves drift from neighbouring trees, pooling as though afraid to step out alone. I sweep them out, sending them out to seek adventure. Cool nights, misty mornings, sun-kissed afternoons. I grudgingly unearth wool socks and revel in the luxury they offer, warmth when I step out from under the blankets. The unexpected joy of discomfort and comfort doesn’t escape me.

Moments of flaming red leaf cause me to focus on light, uplifting my spirit in ways that are much needed. Moving back into the world offers a way out of the fog that I have found myself wandering in.

Clarity sometimes arrives unexpected.