Small joys

 

This year I’ve decided to jump into fall. I don’t always love this time of year, but right now I need something to bring me joy. My kitchen is still in pieces. There is still no timeline or schedule as to when the reconstruction will begin. 

Since I haven’t been able to work in clay and I’ve run out of closets to clean, I took out my clippers and went to work outside. I trimmed the lavender and rosemary. I shaped up the Nandina and Hydrangeas. I made herbal sachets for the drawers and closets filled with rosemary, lavender, cedar and lemon oils. Now every time I open my closet, I smell summer all over again.

Fall flowers. 

I love chrysanthemums. But my very favorite are hydrangeas from my own backyard. The colors are so gorgeous. Burgundy. Purple. Deep Turquoise. I had so much fun arranging them around the house in big lily vases and small ruffle vases. Mixing in sculptures and porcelain leaves and witches is a joyful way for me play with nature and art. 

 

Pumpkins!

It wouldn’t be fall for me without pumpkins. This year, we found a treasure trove of white pumpkins growing in our garden. My simple joy: grouping them around the house. 

Another joyous event: a trip to our local farm and pumpkin patch with my daughter, son-in-law and grandchild. The farm had a small scale train to ride and fresh caramel corn!

Splurge. 

I don’t have a kitchen right now, so I splurged on decorating my front porch. The inside of the house might not look very good right now but the outside can. I couldn’t resist hanging a new wreath, putting out our white pumpkins along with a black metal one on the front porch. 

And I found a way to use more white pumpkins, with a white pumpkin candle and a wonderful handmade crow from fiber artist, Teri Grant. 

I can’t reconstruct my kitchen myself and it makes me sad. But my husband pointed out, right now we have to make our own happiness. So everyday I’m trying, one small joy at a time. 

Fall and Faith.

Fall is not my favorite season.  At first, I deny the end of summer, the loss of blooms and ripe red tomatoes and roses. I leave out my porch furniture and flower-filled patio pots as long as possible. I'm not sure why but it always takes me a while to embrace it.  

It's not the falling leaves, because I love to collect my favorites on my morning walks. I take them back to my studio, roll out some clay, press the leaves into it and form some plates.

It's not the rain, because I love the puddle reflections the changing autumn light creates.

It's not the fog either, because I love the shadows and softness created around the trees and sun and the whispers of mystery flowing across the lake in the park.

It's not the colors, because I love all those bright yellow and crimson leaves against the bare black branches and the gray siding of my house.

It's the fear of change. It's the loss of blooms and growing fruits and sunshine and warmth. I know I'm not alone, it's a deep-seated animalistic survival instinct we all share whether or not we want to admit it. I didn't. I hid my 'silly' fears from myself for years. But not this year.

I'm going to see not just the beauty and inspiration and celebration in the season.  I'm going to trust it. Let the loss of leaves help me see the beauty of the structure beneath.  Feel the cold outside as I wrap myself up in layers of soft sweaters.

I'm going to embrace Fall with faith.  

Ah, there it is again, that word of the year: Faith.  Who knew?