....present for fall

Yogis,
This weekend I set out to notice fall. Like really experience what makes fall. No planned autumn activities or road trips, just being present to the season. Being wrapped in fall.

Our senses are the gateway. So, what did I notice that fall looks like?

Fall is a study in contrast. Every view I take contains both vibrant color and dull landscape. Stunning reds and oranges tangled with browns and grays. Trees bursting with leaves alongside those with bare branches. The moon in the morning sky framed in blue.

Squirrels scurry about as deer coats turn noticeably darker. The garden, pathways and porch all messy with fall. Brilliant sun and bright stars.

I listen. It wouldn’t be fall without the conventions of black crows in raucous debate on who is in charge and what is the plan. The sound of migrating flocks passing through. A woodpecker who decided my siding is the perfect place for finding lunch. I yell out the window, trying to save my house.

The intermittent sound of heat kicking on inside. Crickets fill the night air while the crunch of dried leaves underfoot accompany my hikes…..and the sound of rakes and blowers that move them from here to there.

It’s harder to define the smell. At times musty but also a tinge of sweetness. The cozy aroma of smoke from neighborhood firepits.

I tasted apples, pumpkin and Halloween chocolate. Soups and cinnamon. My body now craving warmer heartier foods on my plate. Oatmeal and tea make their seasonal comeback.

Finally, how does fall feel? I’m cold, I layer, I’m hot. What jacket to wear? Do I need a hat? The sensation of jeans on my legs and socks on my feet. The weight of the duvet that has now returned to the bed. Cool breezes asking the leaves to let go.

Relief from the summer heat yet wanting her back at the same time. Both. Melancholy yet awed. Fall feels like I’m leaving behind and heading to.

And all at once, summer collapsed into fall.  ~Oscar Wilde

What does fall say to you?

Here for her,
SARAH

....both

....both

Yogis,
Both in the same day. It doesn’t happen to me often, but when it does, I feel like I’ve hit the lottery!

I was at the beach this weekend for the annual Sea Witch festival. A gorgeous crisp fall weekend with miraculously no rain. It was the perfect weather on Saturday for watching the parade, walking through town in costume with to-go cocktails and joyful afternoon dancing in a packed outdoor bar. My sister’s homemade soup, salad, veggies and early to bed…..

I woke early on Sunday and noticed that sunrise wasn’t until 7:20. Very doable. I’m in!

It was magnificent with not a cloud in the sky. Being present for the dawn of a new day never disappoints. The swirling colors of the water, sea gulls warming up their voices and the sudden warmth of sun on my face as she lifts, all remind me to notice. To notice what is always already here.

There was no question that this day was going to be a stunner. Yet there was even more to come on the other end.

Sunday evening was the full moon. The hunter’s moon of October. It is easy to forget that the moon, like her sister the sun, rises every day over the ocean from the east. Watching a full moon rise over the horizon rivals sunrise.

Today I got to do both!

Phoebe was with me for sunrise so off we headed together in the evening to the same spot on the beach. Our shadows grew long as the sun lowered in the sky behind us. A different palette of colors surrounded us as the air cooled. And at 5:34, there she was in all her glory.

Both. Day and night. Hot and cold. Light and dark. The beginning and the end.

Grateful for the gift of experiencing both,
SARAH

....spreading seeds

Yogis,
It was August 2012 when I spent a life changing week in my tent on Susun Weed’s property in Woodstock NY. The Green Goddess intensive was designed to immerse us in nature to learn the magic of plants and how we and they are intertwined. It was that week this Sunday night blog was born.

On day one we were told of the goddess pageant. We were to choose a goddess to connect with and share. I chose Lilith, a holder of sacred wildness (she is a discussion for another post). Someone chose the mother goddess Durga….and so on. The woman I had become close with though, decided to create her own goddess who was the spreader of seeds.

Her hair, clothing and shoes were all carrying seeds that fell from her as she walked through fields, meadows and forests. Sowing new every time her feet touched the earth.

I carry the image with me to this day. I have embodied her these last few weeks.

We think of spring as the season of planting seeds and often forget about fall! Seeds are everywhere, waiting to be sown and I have been doing my part.

See all of the drying flowers? They are transforming themselves into seeds. Pull them off and scatter them. How do I know which ones will work? It doesn’t matter. If it is a plant that I would like more of, it can’t hurt to try!

Wild asters arrived on my property a few years ago, carried in by wind, animals or birds the year before. Of course, now that they are here, more are produced each year. Where do I want new ones? I carry the seeds and scatter them wide. A beautiful new type spotted on my river walk……I snap a sprig to go into my pocket to come home.

Balls of seed on Echinacea…..clip them off, make a small hole somewhere else and put one in face down. Great blue lobelia, cardinal flower, zinnia. In my hands, stuck to my sweater and lining my pockets. As I walk, I sow new life.

Will they all grow? Who knows, but they certainly won’t if I don’t spread them.

What do I want?

Planting the seeds,
SARAH

....community

Yogis,
Our gardening committee got together Thursday to discuss what went well, what didn’t, and changes we want next year in our gardens along the main street. We only see each other as a group on spring mulching day, and this end of season debrief. Otherwise, it is quick emails or texts.

It was nice sitting together to talk plants and get to know the newbies better. I left with a lightness in my chest. Community.

Friday night my husband and I walked down to one of the restaurants a few blocks away. We sat at the bar and had at least five different people we know come over to chat. We always see someone we know.

We joke because every time we try to even take a quick walk around the block we bump into people and end up in lengthy conversations. Community.

On Saturday there was a celebration of life for a neighbor held at our community center. We have known him for the 40 years we have lived here. A nice event with sandwiches and a slideshow with pictures of him in his youth looking like a movie star. People from our street were there and we retold stories of our shared histories. Community.

It feels good. Belonging. Safe.

There are many different types of community. The one I speak of here is based on a common geography. Our lives brought us to this 1.2 square mile piece of earth that we share. Yet we are different from each other. Different interests, personalities and ages.

I am realizing that community is not automatic. It is a choice and takes attention. Not everyone in our town knows the people around them or eats at our town restaurants or wants to. And in today’s world building community is even tougher.

I know I want to be part of the town. I make a point of getting to know my neighbors. Of getting involved. Of lending an ear or a hand. I receive so much in return.

Real community requires that people know each other, care about one another's welfare, and feel a sense of shared responsibility.

Glad to belong,
SARAH

....nor'easter

Yogis,
We were watching the weather forecast as the weekend approached. The chances of a nor’easter storming through Rehoboth looked solid. As we packed rain jackets, sweaters and boots to head down the outlook for home looked pretty nice. Hhmmmm…..Why exactly are we going?

Because I love a good storm!

As we arrived Friday afternoon it was cloudy, warm and breezy but by evening the winds were picking up steam and the rain started to fall….and never stopped. It rained morning, noon and night. Puddled streets littered with sticks, leaves and pinecones. Very grateful for my rain boots.

Saturday morning, I headed to the beach first thing. I wanted to get close to the ocean and feel her power. She was so fierce that yellow tape was put across the entrances to keep you from standing on dune edges that could collapse at any moment. Even there the upswells landed close.

The waves were spectacular. One after another, thundering on impact and sending spray skyward. Picking up fence posts with ease and drawing them in like toothpicks. Winds howling and rain pelting as I tried to capture her fury in pictures. Impossible. It is an experience that you must be present to witness.

I went back down for evening high tide, knowing the full moon was watching from behind the clouds. One more time on Sunday morning. Every time in rain gear and every time coming back soaked and chilled. But so worth it. Exhilarating. Alive.

I asked myself why I have always loved when nature gives us glimpses of the intensity she is capable of. It’s because she reminds me that we are clearly not in charge, which based on how we are acting these days is probably a good thing. That our best course of action is to relax, listen and learn. This weekend she had a lot to say.

Will we listen?

Bowing to mother nature,
SARAH

....girl power

Yogis,
It was just as I remembered. The buzz of excitement from finishers and families. The table with plain bagels, bananas and sweets. Lively music, booths with info and activities and of course the medals around the necks. The after event of a race.

This time though it wasn’t me wearing a medal or eating bananas (although I admit to sneaking a bite of bagel.)  I haven’t run a race in probably twenty years now. We were all there to cheer on my 7-year-old granddaughter.

This was her second mini kids’ triathlon.

I was shocked when we arrived at the school to see hundreds of people already there. This was a big, well-run event to raise funds supporting families of children with pediatric cancer. Kids from 6 to 14 were milling around in swimsuits waiting for their start time.  

We were welcomed by Abigail with a wide smile and big hugs. She was ready….and looked confident and adorable!

A few minutes later the skies opened up to pouring rain.

Abigail, though, did not blink an eye. Her group lined up and she walked through the rain with the other girls and jumped in the pool. And they were off….. A bike ride and a run later she ran past us and through the finish. Beaming.

Now she did not know any of the other kids. She had only seen the school once yesterday when they dropped off her bike. She wasn’t talking about winning or beating anyone. Abigail was simply ready to do her best. And she did with ease.

Women’s sports have been in the news a lot lately for many different reasons. Today I witnessed its importance and the power it offers these young girls. The inner strength and courage it can help to build.

I never had interest in team sports but picked up running in high school. I don’t remember it even being offered earlier back then. And it has stuck with me to this day. It is part of the sense of who I am and what I am capable of.

My heart was smiling watching her run through that finish line.

Girl power,
SARAH

....wasps

Yogis,
Do you have any idea how many different species of wasps there are? A conservative estimate has them at 100,000 but the belief is it could be many times that amount. And how about how many species are here in Maryland?

At this point in time there are 1,200 named and documented types. In early September I feel like all of them are in my garden!

This is goldenrod and late boneset season and I know from experience that those plants are pure wasp magnets. I spent time with the wasps this weekend to get to know them better.

We know a wasp when we see it. I think it is the way their long slender legs hang down as they fly. Yet there are many other differences between wasps and bees.

For one, a wasp is slender and has a cinch at the waist, as if they have on a tight belt. A bee on the other hand is more rotund. No waist in sight.

Bees are hairy. Wasps are smooth and hairless. More sleek. Bees are vegetarian, eating only nectar and pollen, while wasps are more predatory and as omnivores, will eat insects and human food. Some wasps, like yellow jackets, love sugary drinks which is why we refer to our town’s September crab feast as the bee (although it should be wasp) fest. Always check your drink before taking a sip.

 In the history of our world, wasps came long before bees.

And while a bee can only sting once, a wasp can sting several times in self-defense. I spent my time with them up close and personal with slow movements and calm energy and they were nothing but polite.

Wasps are a crucial part of our ecosystem. They serve as pollinators, act as nature’s pest control by eating aphids and flies, and are an important protein source for birds, spiders and other insects. A gardener’s friend. We need them and I noticed how beautiful they actually are when you look close.

Every time I spend time with one of earth’s creatures, I am awed.

Befriending the wasps,
SARAH

....clouds

Yogis,
I had gotten out of the habit.

For several years when I was at the beach I made it a point to head down for sunrise often. Set the alarm and hop out of bed. This trip though I have been sleeping in. Maybe I needed the sleep. Maybe it was because we had guests most of the week. Maybe I am being lazy. Who knows. Last night though someone mentioned sunrise.

At 4:30 I woke to use the bathroom and remembered the mention. Rolled over and set the alarm for 5:30. Looked like it was supposed to rain at 5 but then clear out.

Alarm went off and I checked the weather. Now the rain was moved to 5:45. ‘You should go back to sleep’ my mind suggested.  No, it should still end in time. Got dressed, brushed my teeth and fed Phoebe. At 6:10 as the sky was beginning to lighten she and I headed out the door…..to the first large drops of rain.

Again, my mind eagerly gave me every reason I should turn around and snuggle back into bed. I am going to get wet. I won’t see the sun actually rise. I am tired.

We headed to the car anyway, umbrella in hand.

Driving I can see the gray sky and how thick the clouds have become. Windshield wipers going. This is silly I think. Yet I parked, lifting her out and the raindrops lessen.

We head over the dune and then I see it. The clouds are covering the entire sky except for a thin slice they left right along the horizon. The perfect window formed from which to see the sun’s grand entrance into this new day.

And a grand entrance it was indeed. Colors, swirls, bright light, warmth and to top it all off…..a rainbow forming over the dune.

Life has clouds and this period of time seems to have more than its share. I was reminded this morning though that even with clouds I should always get up, move forward with purpose and trust, and be open to the beauty of the unexpected.

We never know what the day will bring but most often I find it to be quite miraculous.

Hello sun,
SARAH

....next

Yogis,
As I sit here, a light breeze causes the oak tree above to release a bucket of acorns on our metal roof. Ding…Ding…Ding. Squirrels scurry through the holly tree leaping from branch to branch. The morning light looks a little different than a couple of weeks ago. Not something I can put words to, but I notice.

The shift is happening.

At this time of year many of the plants are winding down. Perhaps one pink echinacea flower peeks out from behind the many that are now dried and filled with the seeds which delight gold finches. Joe Pye weed no longer as vibrant and my hydrangea petals becoming paper thin. Endings.

Yet, as a gardener, I am reminded that there is always something coming next.

This week I was rewarded for my efforts with three plump figs from my tree out front. That is only the beginning. She is packed with green balls which must be checked daily as they will swell and change color overnight. If not picked, the crows will help themselves….as will my mailman. I always leave some for both.

By the time I get back from the beach the goldenrod will have painted a yellow wave across my medicine wheel. Followed soon by smiling faces of purple asters below. Yellow and purple, two colors often intertwined by nature.

Berries are just now beginning to appear on tree branches and if figs are here, then paw paws are ripening on trees through the woods opening up the season to forage. Late boneset draws new insects to the garden.

And so it goes. Late August is bittersweet indeed but as I spread seeds from the July spent flowers, I visualize them nestling down under winter snow to prepare. To get ready for what is next.

In the garden the cycles never end. Life is no different. There is always something coming next and the effort is to invite it in.

Endings lead to beginnings,
SARAH

....one hundred

Yogis,
It was May 2020 when two neighborhood women showed me the space along our main street that was to become my gardening responsibility. I had to look it up because if you asked, I would have said I have been doing this four or five years. A symptom of aging. Yet this was my seventh summer of transforming a stubborn weed filled area into a space of bee filled color and joy for our community.

I have loved doing it and it has given me much in return.

In those early days I was told an older woman named Mrs. Cable lived in the house which the garden edges. When there I would keep an eye out for her in hopes we would meet.

Soon enough she began coming out to her front porch and calling me over to thank me, offer water and place a couple personal requests. I learned she loves pinks and purples and is not a fan of gold. Noted.

One day as we stood chatting, she asked if I would like to sit with her on the front porch for a bit. This became a new routine. Through these conversations I learned more about her and her ever expanding family…..and that she was 94.

Although walking was beginning to require some assistance, she was as sharp as they come. She can tell you the names of all of her grandchildren, great grandchildren and great great grandchildren (of which there are a lot!), their ages, where they live and birthdays!

Impressive.

Sometimes she would ask me to walk her along the garden while I heard stories of old Cabin John. And when I brought my grandchildren to help me, she would come out with ice cream treats and we would all sit. We became friends.

Last week she turned 100.

I attended a large celebration hosted by her family in our community center with close to 100 guests. As she sat beaming in a chair a line formed. All lives in which she played a role.

She is truly an inspiration on aging and I am grateful that she was yet another gift the garden bestowed on my life.

 At the party she told me the name of her first-grade teacher,
SARAH

....a way in

Yogis,
I can’t pinpoint when Nana Camp began but I believe this was at least year five. I know it started with only my oldest grandson and then four years ago my granddaughter joined in. A summer week spent at my house.

I have been seeing research pointing to benefits children gain from relationships with grandparents. Better emotional stability, a sense of unconditional love and deeper understanding and empathy for family roots. The relationships can be live or even digital, but like any relationship, they must be lovingly built.

I always feel like Nana Camp is fertile ground for this construction.

Last week was as always….. fun filled, busy, loud, messy, funny, exhausting and filled with an incredible amount of food. How do they eat so much? But what was new this year was the add of my four year old grandson Ben, who was deemed old enough to attend.

Here was my opportunity to make my way in.

We did it all. Swimming, creek visits, puppet show, aquarium, carousel and lots of arts and crafts. We even slept out in tents again, with not nearly enough actual sleep. Yet where a foundation begins to form is in the quiet moments in between.

Sitting to build blocks. Reading him a book he picked from the little free library (Spiderman, of course). Holding his hand while crossing the street, hugging him when hurt and giving him a bath. Most importantly, introducing him to my lavender head massages at bedtime.

He would lie on his back with bright blue eyes wide open to watch. By the third night he leapt into bed knowing what was coming. Deep sleep would follow.

By day four I felt him unconsciously lean up against me while watching a show. Figuring out who I am and how I fit into his life.

I was cooking the same chicken I made for my own boys. As I got Ben out of the tub I told him he would smell the chicken. He looked at me and said, ‘Nana I like the smell of your chicken……Nana, I like all of the things in your house.’

Yes!

I’m in,
SARAH

....an empty space

Yogis,
My mom was one of three Cardoni girls. As the oldest she picked up a lot of responsibility as a teenager (like quickly learning to drive to become the family’s transportation) when her father died suddenly. Her middle sister Gloria was six years younger and the youngest a toddler.

This week Gloria died peacefully during the night…..leaving behind an empty space, not only for that family, but all of us.

Whenever we hear of a death of someone close there is that moment when time stands still. There is the time before and then the after. I still remember those moments for other passings.

As my mom's Maid of Honor

Then what follows is the flood of memories. All of them. The good and the difficult.

Gloria was larger than life with a big personality. Perhaps it was her middle child position. When in it, she commanded a room, with a big smile while she told you what to do. She laughed a lot and had her opinions. She was both my godmother and confirmation sponsor and though she gave me a bible, I can’t say we had any talks on religion, but spirituality …yes.

There was one three-year period when we lived in Atlanta at the same time as her family.  This was during my formative years of 9 to 12. Those memories run deep.

Like how she and my mom took tap dancing lessons and practiced on our stone floor in the foyer. Or the baked Alaska she would make when we were over. The time her dachshund ate my hamster, and we all lay on the couch crying, or mom watching soap operas with her when I returned from school each day. She was generous.

As a high-spirited high school English teacher she changed many young lives. I always wish I had been in her class.

But my lifelong memory is how at every opportunity, she and my mom would take the mic to sing ‘Tonight you Belong to me’ in harmony. I know, I know, you…..

At my wedding

Memories lead us to photo albums, family texts, phone calls and ultimately, peering into our own lives. Changed once again with this new empty space.

Om,
SARAH

....rain, rain, go away

Yogis,
When you go to the same spot, on the same week every year for 39 years, you are going to experience every kind of summer weather the beach has on offer.

There have been years of intense heat when everyone spends the days under umbrellas and in the water. Times when the rip currents were so bad that the red flags and watchful lifeguards kept us ankle deep all week. Thunderstorms and wind that shook the house and eight years ago when flooding was so intense  the town was pumping water out of our streets.

This year was wet.

Not all the time, but we got drenched upon arrival with buckets of rain pouring out of a lightning filled sky as we unloaded the car. At least the sand was all washed off, we didn’t need a shower…..and a rainbow framed the sky once the storm passed.

We would have a beautiful day, followed by a not so nice one. Or a windy wet morning with the clouds suddenly parting and the sun shining warm and bright all afternoon. Within minutes of the sun’s appearance the beach would fill as families poured out of houses.

Yet weather does not dampen the spirits of the 60 of us there! How could it…….

The hot tub was a crowd favorite during downpours and umbrellas allowed us to visit the turtle lake. On nice days the big hole was dug for the twenty kids to play in, the candy lady (as my friend is known) opened shop, handing out candy necklaces, crafts were made and bocce games were won and lost.   

We played group games, watched movies and took rainy beach walks. The guys fished. And there was no shortage of laughter.

We have all been doing this together for so long that that the fun comes with us regardless of the external circumstances. Isn’t that true of all of life? We can choose to either let the outer world determine our joy or we can always carry the light within us.

On Friday, like clockwork, Tim came around with the frozen pineapple pieces that had been soaking in rum all week.

A rainbow framed the sky again our last night,
SARAH

....preferences

 Yogis,
Plants have more in common with us then we often give credit for. They breathe, need water, pass down traits through DNA and have a communication network. They also have preferences, as we do, to where they want to set down roots.

For humans, there are those who prefer to settle in the sunny south while others are much more at home in the cold. Some want desert and some feel naked without the cover of trees. Plants too have likes and dislikes and as a gardener it sometimes takes them showing me time after time before I finally get it!

Let’s take mullein as an example. I wanted mullein when I formed my medicine wheel garden since she was used medicinally by native Americans. I spread seeds. I transplanted seedlings from friends. Over and over without luck.

This year one showed up with no effort or fanfare in my gravel driveway. She is a beauty. Clearly, she likes rocky soil. Got it.

The exact same thing happened with Queen Anne’s Lace. Once I finally recognized her coming up each summer, I allowed a small patch to develop in an area we don’t park. She reminds me of my NJ childhood. I remember picking them to put in vases (some things never change……)

Then there are tomatoes. Several years ago I grew cherry tomatoes from seed. Every year since then I have multiple volunteers that come up around my garden to produce fruit. I never have to plant new ones. I even transplant one to a pot on my deck. Thank you, Universe!

One though always ends up surprising me somewhere in the driveway. This year she selected a spot next to the recycle bin.  She is looking quite happy and I expect to be picking tomatoes soon.

Now that’s recycling.

Others, like forget-me-nots, prefer edges. I start them in the garden, but as they reseed, they inch closer and closer to the edge, eventually spilling over the rocks that make my border. Like wild spirited people, they don’t want to be contained.

Plants help me understand humans better too.

Om,
SARAH

....every day

Yogis,
Morning has always been my favorite time of day. This weekend was no different.

We spent the holiday at our beach place. The 4^th of July is notorious for being jam packed. Hard to park, hard to get into restaurants, hard to find room for your chair on the beach. Yet morning remains peaceful.

This morning I headed out the door at 7:30. Although every available inch of our street was lined with parked cars, it seemed the owners were still in bed. Only a rabbit crossed my path, who I believe is the one eating my new plantings down to stubs.

Arriving at the beach closest to our house there are a few walkers and a lone fisherman who tells me he has gotten a few small spot and kingfish. Fathers walking down with carts filled with chairs and umbrellas to claim a spot.

I pause to try to capture the glimmer on the ocean’s surface and the seagulls who rest on a jetty as they wait for the French fry stand to open. All the while asking the Universe for a topic for this note.

As I near the boardwalk the crowd thickens.  Soon it is wall to wall blankets, and I hear a bullhorn in the distance. Then I see them. Lifeguards out on boards overseeing swimmers making their way to shore. A biathlon!

I watch the final group emerge from a half mile swim and head to the start of the 5k run. Flags were flying and cowbells were ringing. A large finish line with a clock towering over the boardwalk waiting for its first finisher.

I mixed in with the crowd to cheer on the first runner who was flying. A large festive crowd at only 8 o’clock on a Sunday morning.

I know what to write.

Every morning I leave the house and every morning I see something I wasn’t expecting. An unusual bird, a tree in full bloom, a friendly fisherman…..a biathlon.

The reminder I need that every single day is unique. No day I ever have will be exactly like this one. So I don’t want to miss it!

As I get back to the house it is as quiet as I left it.

Stay open for the unexpected,
SARAH

.....tear down

Yogis,
Another fabulous week at the Jersey shore. I had all three of my boys, my daughter in-laws, all five grandchildren and my parents together under one roof for three of the nights. What’s better than that!

This end of June tradition has been ongoing for the past forty years. Many years but several different houses.

There is a running joke that we stay in a house until the bulldozer pulls up to take it down. A joke yet true. We find a house, settle in and rebook for the next year the day we check out. Year after year…..until the owners decide to sell

We know what happens next. It is torn down and replaced with something twice its size with all the new bells and whistles. We also know it is time to move on.

We stay in ‘tear downs.’

There was the beachfront with an old grand piano in the wood paneled living room, one with a picture window literally in the dunes but also armies of ants, or the one where you had to duck coming down the stairs (which my father inevitably forgot to do and knocked himself out).

What is most important to our family is location, location, location. Beach block is critical as we are the hub for the rest of the family to store chairs and umbrellas. We act as the restroom and with unlocked doors people can sneak back for a break from sun or socializing.  

We also want an old simple house with lots of bedrooms and plenty of deck space. No fancy landscaping for us! We rent homes that still have stones as lawn, allowing us to play ‘rock in bucket’. A family favorite!

All week we observed the beautiful home next door with its pool, gorgeous balcony couches and 6 person golf carts. Beach chairs professionally set up daily while we schlepped everything on our backs.

My grandson and I were sitting on plastic, yet comfortable, chairs on the wood deck. With no prompt, he proclaimed our house was perfect. We didn’t need all the fancy extras because we like to spend our time outside and at the beach.

He gets it,
SARAH