.yellow reflections.

I went on my favorite nature walk by the river this weekend. When I got the end of the trail I realized that the water level was so low there's now a little patch of sand to stand on, almost a beach. I walked down to the river to watch the ripples distort the reflection of the vibrant yellow trees. The days are quickly fading into the dark, and yet, we still have the yellow of fall. The final burst of color. I found the yellow reflections so captivating. 

I've also been experimenting with weaving polished hemp. It's such a rigid materials. I wasn't sure it would work, so I tried it on my lap loom. It worked. I really like the structure and spacing of the material. I think I might try it on my rigid heddle next. 

.fall in new england.

"Autumn”
by Linda Pastan

I want to mention
summer ending
without meaning the death
of somebody loved

or even the death
of the trees.
Today in the market
I heard a mother say

Look at the pumpkins,
it's finally autumn!
And the child didn't think
of the death of her mother

which is due before her own
but tasted the sound
of the words on her clumsy tongue:
pumpkin; autumn.

Let the eye enlarge
with all it beholds.
I want to celebrate
color, how one red leaf

flickers like a match
held to a dry branch,
and the whole world goes up
in orange and gold.

.fall time.

It seems like fall time always comes in unexpected or at least initially undesired but as the energy of summer fades fall time seems to slow down my rhythms - calm the noise in my head - root me more into myself. 

A time to remind me of all my layers.

.weekend getaways.

Sometimes I wonder where I best fit but the more I travel the more I see the beauty in everywhere. I find fulfillment in all places. 

A weekend trip up north was like a huge series of deep breaths - the night sky exploding with stars reminding me how bright stars can shine, getting lost in the mountains during a torrential downpour, traveling on winding country roads, teaching everyone how apples are properly picked and everyone cooking in the kitchen to make the best Sunday morning brunch. So grateful for the opportunity to get out of the city, reconnect with the mountains, and reunite with old friends.