Inside autumn

Last Sunday morning I stepped outside the front door into the crisp, cool air of early autumn. It’s freshness cleared my nose of cosy warmth and I got a whiff of the ripe hibiscus flowers in our neighbor’s garden. As I tapped my cane down the road I became aware of the bird cries high above me and the sound of wings swishing as little flocks fluttered in formation in preparation for flying north.

Floral dresses  hanging on a rail.
A ‘hanging garden’ of floral prints

I love walking to our church early. Most people are tucked up warm in their beds so it seems as if I have the sounds and aromas of the changing season, all to myself under the vast blue sky. After meeting with a few folk for prayer, I sauntered into the noisy school hall where groups of chattering people gathered and flowed like flotsam on a stream, some sticking with the clumps and others breaking off to connect with the next group. Last Sunday morning I stepped outside the front door into the crisp, cool air of early autumn. It’s freshness cleared my nose of cosy warmth and I got a whiff of the ripe hibiscus flowers in our neighbor’s garden. As I walked down the road I became aware of the bird cries high above me and the sound of wings swishing as little flocks fluttered in formation in preparation for flying north.

The summer fashions have been so flowery this year. To me it looked like swirls and waves of floating leaves, bobbing blooms, twirling flowers and colliding colours as ladies greeted and turned with fragrant perfumes wafting lightly on the air after them as they made their way to their usual seats. The trousers and shirts stood more solidly like tree trunks stepping determinedly in straight lines, stopping to nod at other pillars of clothes.

I smiled to myself, grateful that I get to see this inside garden of flowing lives in an unusual way. I think that Seeing must sometimes get in the way of experiencing.

After COVID 19, my theme tune is, ‘when will I see you (this) again?’

1 thought on “Inside autumn

  1. Frances Geraldine Webster

    Such lovely descriptions to delight our Brexit weary/corona freaked brains. We are like rabbits caught in the headlights, and here you swirl in with enchantment and tranquility, poetry tripping off your tongue to remind us to see beyond… or perhaps close our eyes and listen. Thank you Jenny. A delightful read.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

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