.....never the same

Yogis,
Those who know me know I like going to the same places over and over. Whether a vacation to the Outer Banks or Stone Harbor (close to 40 years), the trails I hike, or the restaurants I eat in, I enjoy the act of returning. Again and again and again.

I was thinking about this while sitting by the Cabin John creek with Phoebe at my side. The park sits a mile from home and offers winding wooded trails and a running creek, all framed by incredible views with craggy rock formations. I have been there hundreds of times and usually in the same mile radius.

Many people may think it would be boring. Going to the same place day after day and seeing the same things? Don’t I want to go to new places? But nothing really ever is the same…..is it. In fact, every time I go, the creek is new.

Nothing stays the same.

Today it was the reflections in the water that caught my attention. A beautiful fall day with a light breeze causing a ripple on the surface, creating images reminiscent of impressionist paintings. Designs and swirls asking which way is up.

The trees that only last week wore a deep emerald green are now tinged with color. Early fallen leaves lay on rocks in reds and oranges. The songs of the insects softer now.

My reflection mirrors me as I carefully step rock to rock. Who I see below has also changed from years of these visits. A little creakier but strong. Wisdom lines carved in my skin. Small life shifts happen as seasons change.

A rock cairn will appear and vanish days later. The air, shadows, sounds…..vary every moment. Plants arrive and grandfather trees fall, blocking my path. I climb over. A new path will quickly form from footsteps of those who find a way around. Mushrooms come and go. Wildflowers. Snakes. An infinite number of potential differences from one day to the next.

Only because I know it so well can I see and appreciate the changes. The newness every time.

Same places.....never the same,
SARAH

....newer isn't better

Yogis,
One of my favorite ways to prepare vegetables is to roast them. Many kinds. Peppers, onions, broccoli, carrots, cauliflower, beets…… often with small potatoes. Spread on a cookie sheet, massaged with a little olive oil and sprinkled with salt and any herbs or flavorings that feel right. Perfect for this time of year. Easy and delicious.

I like to cook mine pretty well. To that point where their texture changes and they begin to crystallize a bit. Sweeten. Often seeming like a different vegetable from when I slid them in to cook.

Recently I opened up the pan drawer of my oven. In there lies a stack of baking sheets in a variety of sizes. And a variety of ages. The new ones sit shiny and clear of any stains. They look so pretty. Others are now dark and splotchy. At first glance you would think I hadn’t cleaned them, but I know I always do.

For a while I tended to grab the new ones. I prepared the veggies the same way and cooked at the same temperature but for some reason they weren’t quite as tasty. Hhmmm…… Then one time I grabbed one of the oldies but goodies. An aha moment ensued. They cooked better!

Of course. It makes sense. Like my cast iron pans the more they are used, seasoned and loved, the better meals they produce. New isn’t necessarily better.

I was given some wooden salad tossers a couple years ago. I love their look and as an avid salad maker, I use them many times a week. During clean up I would give them a good scrub with soap. I started noticing though they felt a little dried out when I held them. I began lightly rinsing them off with warm water, allowing some of the oils to stay intact.  They too now feel more alive and loved. Cleaner isn’t always better.

Applying the same principles now to my wooden salad bowl, I can see the colors deepening. Aging to perfection.

Our grandmothers knew this.

The earth could benefit from us all falling back in love with what we already have,
SARAH

.....harvest

Yogis,
Each morning I walk out the front door, and each morning there is a little pile of dirt next to the potted plant on the steps. I sweep it up and scoop it back into the planter. I can barely see the walnut that has been buried there.

The flagstone path leading to the driveway is littered with acorns from the old oak above. They crunch as I walk. I startle the mother deer and her two little ones resting in the front grass. I imagine they ate so many nuts overnight that they have an acorn hangover and had decided it was easier to sleep where they were then to stagger home.

Chipmunks scurry across the yard with cheeks filled. Oblivious to my footsteps as their focus has shifted to food storage. Collect and unload. Collect and unload. Newly flocking birds land in the trees creating a raucous as they feast. They all know.

It is harvest season. Seeds, fruits, nuts.  A bounty literally falling on us from above.

My garden knows it too. The herbs are experiencing their last blast of growth and asking to be used. This week I will make my herbed salts with the now dense sage and aromatic rosemary. It’s time to dry some oregano and put thyme in vinegar. I take seeds from the drying flowers and scatter them in other parts of the yard.

Using this time of harvest to prepare for winter.

My CSA veggie share is moving back into dark greens, eggplant, squash, garlic and potatoes. Foods that nourish. I had my first acorn squash of the season for dinner the other night. Amazing. No additions needed.

This harvest season reminds me each year of the magnificent abundance of our world. That we are all already rich.

I wrote this while sitting on the front porch. The entire time I was surrounded by the sounds of various critters scampering through dried leaves…..which will later be used to reinforce their nests. All reveling in the gifts that have been bestowed.

Grateful for the bounty,
SARAH