Every Fleeting Moment

 

The next few weeks are lining up with genuine autumn events

and a few end-of-summer happenings. 

It's a busy season, but I wanted to share 

some fall photos and updates.

We have piles of logs for campfires, fuel for flame-gazing 

ponderings and pulling stories from deep coat pockets--

the kind rarely shared and told in hushed tones. 

It's almost board game time. I recognize the hands in this photo, 

the shapes of people I love who can no longer navigate an evening 

of dice, cards, or laughter. It's a lesson--savor every fleeting moment.

The Heavenly Blue morning glory vine has become a magnificent 

monster. She's wrapped herself around an entire 

section of fence and roamed to the top of the greenhouse. 

When the blues reach their peak at the end of October, 

they'll put on a show to remember all the bleak 

winter days to come. 

The delicate backyard beauty of a spider's art, laced with 

autumn dew--another snapshot of everyday wonder. 

The sun is setting earlier and earlier on the fall season 

of 2025. I'm ready to begin letting this year go. 

Is it the same for you? 

Garden Pointers

 

When I get a chance to go outside with my grands, they'll often hear me say, 

"Use your looking eyes."

 Of course, the teacher part of me can't resist adding even more instruction-- 

"Listen! Did you hear that?" 

"Touch this," or 

"Smell these..." 

You know--just your everyday kind of interacting with nature. 

But for me, the visual trumps all the other senses. 

Small wonders in my own backyard remind me of who I am in 

the grand scheme of life. Ordinary sights like this datura bloom point the way 

to the One who longs to welcome us home. 

My dear husband gifted me a macro lens for my recent birthday. 

Now I can get an even closer view of nature's small miracles, 

markers on the path of life. 

 

If you'd like to read more about HOME, I'm writing a newsletter on 

Substack. Click the link to take a peek. Subscribe for free to help 

this writer girl out. 

The newsletter focuses on practical ways to build an authentic home while 

heading toward our true home. At the end of each newsletter, 

I share a bit from my now-completed novel, The Homeplace. 

I hope you enjoy it. 

Sky Gazing

Why is the sky a subject of study only when I'm at leisure? 

If I'm kicked back in my Kentucky beach chair with nothing to do, 

 I'll tilt my face upward  

and check out whatever artwork God left way up there. 

When I'm not at leisure, I'll scan the sky for rain or storms--snow? 

A jet streaks across the horizon, and I wonder 

what the passengers will enjoy upon arrival. 

Hawks wheel above, and their grating call draws my eye 

upward, but only for a moment.

It seems my time viewing the sky decreases 

even as stress levels increase.

Does it seem that way to you, too?

If I'm zipping to the grocery, the nursing facility, or to school, 

I don't stop and take time to sky gaze. 

But I know I should. 

Taking time to look up inoculates the nonsense with

 a necessary dose of perspective. 

I might log a two-thousand-word day, 

prepare a kidlit lesson, and work 

my way through a mountain of laundry--

but I need to pause every now and then to

 look up and remember these truths.