Pink roses & crunchy leaves

When I woke up this morning, I could tell something was different. I had to be up early to give my mother a ride to the courthouse to do her jury duty, so I was up earlier than usual. When I got home I did not feel like starting work just yet. The rain had stopped, the sun had come out. The air had that nutty, earthy smell that it gets right after it has rained after many months of no rain at all. A cool breeze was blowing. The air was crisp as freshly picked Fall apples. I had a little over an hour before I had to head off to meet some girlfriends for a birthday brunch, so I grabbed my camera and headed out to enjoy the gorgeous Fall day.

Up until today it felt as though Fall was tentatively dipping her toes into the idea of making an entrance. But today she took full stage. There were leaves strewn across lawns, in all the gutters and along fences. As I wandered along the pavement I inhaled deeply. The aroma of sweet wood burning in someone's fireplace filled my lungs. Birds called from the highest branches of a redwood. Blossoms knocked from the branches of bushes lay strewn across the pavement like giant pink and white snowflakes. Even though it is fall, roses still cascaded down over brick walls. I love the contrast of roses in full bloom and leaves turning golden. It seems so unlikely. There are few places in the world where blossoms and dying leaves share visual space.
 

 

Up above, the Turkey Vultures were gliding in the blue sky.

I have mentioned this before, but Sacramento is known as the city of trees. It lives up to its name. The entire city is covered in trees. The area I live in is especially blessed with gorgeous, big, old trees.

The large number of old, giant trees means you have to watch where you park during storms (cars getting crushed by tree limbs is a regular occurrence here), but it also makes for incredibly good tree-climbing and beautiful light and foliage in the Fall. Like something out of a painting.

And of course, when you have that many trees, you also have squirrels. This little fella was checking me out. Or maybe he was posing. From beneath, the leaves looked like stained glass or as though they were burning and glowing from the light of the sun filtering down through them.

By the time I started for home, I had a huge grin on my face. I could tell it was going to be a beautiful day, and a gorgeous Fall. I made sure to crunch through some leaves on my way home. I love the sound and feeling of crunchy leaves beneath my feet.

I enjoyed brunch with friends late morning, and this evening I took part in a women's devotional on the theme of happiness. I shared my experience of sheer joy from my morning walk with the others. Fall is officially here. As I write this, I am listening to rain drumming on the roof shingles. I cannot wait to wake up tomorrow, bundle myself up, and head out to study the Baha'i writings with a friend of mine while we sip tea. What do you enjoy most about the Fall where you live?

Didn't even have to dance

When I woke up this morning the sky was blue, as per usual. More of the same. a.k.a: B.O.R.I.N.G. I am ready to wear scarves again. Ready for hats as fashion statements rather than just avoidance of the intensely hot summer sun. I am ready for the sound of rain.

So you can imagine my immense pleasure this afternoon when the clouds started rolling in, and my absolute joy at the current state of affairs in the heavens -- a solid gray sky. Not ONE sliver of blue. My Canadian friends always told me that even the tiniest patch of blue was a sure sign that the sky would eventually clear, so surely the complete absence of blue from the palette of the sky today is a guarantee that there is no chance of the sun popping out and ruining a perfectly nice gray day. Right? Who knows. Maybe it will even start raining. 

This past weekend I did yoga with over 250 fellow yogis at a local park to raise money for a number of great initiatives in eastern Africa. We did 108 sun salutations in a row, which took just about three hours, and managed to raise over $7,000. It feels great to know that a number of yoga and educational projects in Africa will be able to progress and grow as a result of our heading out on Saturday morning to practice yoga together. I also discovered new muscles that I never knew I had, which, in the long-run, once I am able to lift my arms again, and regain full use of my legs, will seem like a truly great experiential education lesson in human biology, I'm sure. :-)

Below is a shot of the crew that joined me out in the park on Saturday. Our mantra was ONENESS. SERVICE and LOVE. That we are all one, and have a mutual responsibility to each other as members of a single human race; that we are here to serve one another through deeds, not just words, and that love is the answer. The spirit of the day was deeply empowering, and there was a distinct feeling that we were all working together, supporting each other to do all 108 sun salutations, rather than each of us being on her or his mat practicing in isolation.

Aren't all the colours gorgeous? Unity in diversity in action!!

The wind has started blowing outside. More signs of the advancing Fall. This evening, after I get home from a meeting of the Local Spiritual Assembly (the local administrative body of the Baha'i community of Sacramento), I am looking forward to immersing myself back into my current novel: The Paris Wife, by Paula McLain. It is about the relationship between Earnest Hemingway and his first wife, and is very well written. The only thing that detracts from the story is my knowledge of the fact that this was, in fact, his first wife, and that it therefore cannot possibly have a happy ending; and that of course Hemingway eventually commits suicide in real life, so the relationship that lies at the heart of this novel, and one of its main characters, are both eventually going to die. Rather sad, really. But McLain has done an excellent job of stepping into the psyches of both main characters and seeing the world through their eyes, which is a great accomplishment -- to be able to bring the reader into dialogue with Hemingway the real human being rather than simply the brilliant author idol that most of us today see him as.

Reading The Paris Wife is helping me to realize how much more energy I need to be putting into my own creative writing if I ever want to succeed. Writing, as Paula McLain says through her characters, is an extremely lonely profession, but trying to make it less so by socializing too much, joining writing groups, or other types of activities that theoretically should reduce a writer's isolation, may accomplish this, but it also often undermines the quality and quantity of the work that the artist is creating. I have been out and about a bit too much lately, and while I am enjoying my social life immensely, I have been noticing that I am not accomplishing as much lately as I would like to be with my writing.

Tomorrow I do not have to go out. I am looking forward to an entire day devoted to writing. Maybe some rain. Maybe some wind. Definitely a hot cup of tea. Maybe a dunking biscuit. I am hoping for the rhythmic lulling of rain as I fall asleep. Happy nestling into Autumn Monday, friends! 

Oooooh. Here comes the rain just as I am about to post this! And I didn't even have to do the rain dance!