Calliope runs frosted fingertips under warm water.
Nią plucks bits of lawn-mower-masticated leaves from Tal’s curls.
“In-vihhhhhg-or-a-ting!” Thalia chooses a sunny spot at the kitchen table. “We dihhhhd it! Got the leaves off before Jason comes to tuck our grass into its winter slumber.”
Our lives are fashioned by our choices.
First we make our choices.
Then our choices make us.
~Tricky Attribution
(In other words, a variety of people are credited with this wisdom.
Makes me think there’s truth in it.)
A note from LoveLetterist:
Back when I spent my days with kindergarteners, one of my favorite lessons to teach was Country Mouse -- City Mouse. Even though more than a decade has passed since I read the story, the lesson continues to deepen in my awareness.
Everybody's got their likes, dislikes, and ways of doing things. Much of this hinges on previous experience.
When the mice visit each other at their homes, their perspectives grow. They learn that the world they come from is not the only way to live.
Is this also an opportunity to "do different" if we want "different" in our lives?
I'm just in from zipping around the yard on our riding mower. On Monday, Jason (who makes his living keeping suburban yards green and tidy) sent a note that he'd be out later this week to winterize. On Tuesday, it snowed. ❄
On Wednesday, it melted (mostly).
This morning I felt a strong pull to get a thick blanket of leaves off the grass so that the lawn granules can get to our lawn's roots, as intended.
When we built our home over 20 years ago... this was not a piece I saw in my future.
I do so love mowing -- on warmer days. 😉
I've been a city mouse...
and a country mouse.
Both have their high and low lights.
Often when we begin, we cannot see the pieces we are setting ourselves up for?
The beauty of being a conscious human is that if we don't like our circumstances, we almost always can make different choices. Sometimes we just forget... that we can.
Not always a parent, too! (As the kiddos age we shift from gobs of attention to their needs to new endeavors of our own) Such as executing watercolor renderings of perfect pears. I never thought to search for when painters began painting bowls of, or the fruit itself, on a plain background??
Recently I’ve happened upon both writings and paintings (on Twitter) addressing this time of year in temperate climes. Beyond simply “It’s colder. Leaves are falling,” some of my finds constitute powerful allegories about seasons of our own lives.
I’ll quickly note that the quote you provided, noting tricky attribution, very well applies to your evolution (emotionally and spiritually) in recent years. 😊
You might look at the last paragraphs of “Thanatopsis” by William Cullen Bryant on the business of lying down to peaceful dreams. It seems your lawn is about to do the same.
Note: Some loose neurons rattling in my skull right now suggest I may have offered some thoughts recently on Thanatopsis. If so, my apologies to one and all. 😔