All is Well in Autumn

 

My blog has been in summer hibernation. It doesn't like the humidity. But on beautiful first-days-of-autumn like today, it is kindled by a dry warmth and a new light.

This morning as I walked Skye along a route I hadn't walked in a surprisingly long while, I was washed with a rare joy inspired by the air on my skin, the wildflowers along a pasture, and the sun reaching through leafy limbs on a woodland lane. 

Some of those leaves are turning.

In June our daughter, Tashi, graduated from high school. How is it that I didn't blog about that? 

Summer included a camping weekend on Loft Mountain . . .

 

 

 

A mother-daughter trip to New York City . . .

And the slight overwhelm of elder-care, a day job, family logistics, doula care, college prep, young-boy care . . .

It was a busy summer, a summer that lacked gardening, swimming, and a steady connection to mother earth. It was very simply that kind of summer—fleeting, with very little down time. I made the most of my weekly visits to the dog park.

Summer wrapped up well, with a foray to Lockn' where I saw Ween tear it up and Phish for the first time and Phil with the Infamous Stringdusters. 

 

I got to have a romantic night with Dan in the oppressive heat, sleeping in a makeshift blanket-fort in Zoksang's awesome shop, our kids joining us the next day for more music and dancing and shop-keeping.

No sooner did Tristan start second grade than we headed off for a week in Wisconsin, where we enjoyed family and friends and a cottage by a lake . . .

 

AND we dropped Tashi off for her Freshmen year at Lawrence University . . .

How is it that I didn't blog about that?

It was beautiful really. Bittersweet, of course. But just so exciting. She is in a good place, in great classes, and is just so happy. What more could we ask for?

We returned to our humble abode without Tashi, but to family, to friends, and to music. These are great themes in my life. I am blessed.

At night now, after we put Tristan to bed, Dan and I look at each other and say, "now what?" Our teenager isn't here to play Boggle with, or to binge watch some series with, to impart our love of David Bowie and Pink Floyd to, or to help with homework and conundrums. We are not wondering when she will begin that winding drive home from her various jobs, or from a night out with friends. We are not quietly wishing she would come out of her room and talk to us. 

She just isn't here.

 

Sometimes I walk into her room and simply stand there. Dust motes. Sheet music. So many books. Beautiful multi cultural wall decor. Her room is like a tiny exhibit: Chamber of a Well-Read Girl on the Brink of Womanhood. The pets follow me in and take seats variously. We all just gaze about. Breathe her in. And think good thoughts.