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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