Change of Scene: Thursday’s Reflection

Sometimes a change of scenery is a good thing. 













Yesterday I packed up my laptop and a copy of the chapter I am currently working on for my memoir and headed out to the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum. The dining room where I set up my temporary desk has big windows looking out on an area of bird feeders. The gymnastics of the squirrels and the intimidation of the invading turkey flock as they competed for the fallen birdseed was entertaining--and distracting!

But the real joy on this cold winter day was walking into the  main building and seeing the displays of spring flowers. In Minnesota this is definitely rushing the season, but oooh, the happy colors and the variety of blooms. The beauty and the creativity.







These displays seem like a collaboration between God the original creator and the artistry of those who grew, tended, and arranged these flowers for our delight. 









I thought about Desmond Tutu's call for each of us to be a life artist--to create lives of beauty. Sometimes that means creating a work of art--a painting, a poem, a dance, a song or maybe a home or a garden. Our relationships. Our actions--how we respond to the cares and woes of the world and sometimes, make brave decisions.


As I have mentioned, my word for the year is fullness, and it seems to me that to "fully inhabit one's life" is to create a life of beauty. My hope is that I can bring my full self to whatever I do. When I am able to do that, I am living a life of fullness, a life that approaches wholeness. 








An Invitation
In what ways are you a life artist? I would love to know. 

Fall in all its Glory: Thursday's Reflection

I love working in my garret space, and most days this is just where I want to be. My only view, however, is our garage roof, and some days I just need more atmosphere. Some days I need to know what it is like outside. Some days I need to leave the isolation and quiet of my comfortable space and get out!

"Let's go to the arboretum," I suggested.


I packed up some writing work and off we went to the Minnesota Arboretum. Needless to say, we weren't the only ones with that idea, for it was an iconic October day. Carloads of people in the Third Chapter of life had the same idea, along with mothers of children not yet old enough for school. Strollers and walkers!

We were all there to breathe the fall air and catch a glimpse of leaves drifting from one reality to another. We oohed and aahed at the colors, still lush, not yet fading.

Can you spot the human pumpkin?

And the pumpkins and squash! All the creative displays made me think I have not done nearly enough fall decorating at our house. 

I unpacked my writing materials by a window in the dining room that looked out onto a patio and after an early lunch, I tackled a current project. Used to working alone in the garret, I wondered if I would be distracted by all the people chatting around me or if the view would demand all my attention. But, instead, I eased into the surroundings. I felt renewed and more alive to the beauty around me. 

I am back in the garret, as I write this, and I am happy to be here, but my arboretum time reminded me that routine can easily become a rut. If I choose, I can discover all sorts of places that amaze and delight; places where I can even work. 

Sometimes a bit of a change is all we need. 

      "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."
                                                     L.M. Montgomery



Minnesota Arboretum

Tuesday's Reflection: Fall Days

Minnesotans are known for saying, "Enjoy these days while you can because winter is just around the corner." You hear that statement or similar ones not only in the fall months, but on a gorgeous summer day, someone is bound to bring up winter. "Just you wait," someone will warn. Then in the middle of winter, if we get a warmer than usual day or two, someone will always point out how we will be punished for the  blip in the temperatures. I don't know if that is a Midwestern thing or a Scandinavian thing, since so many of us have that background, but we always seem to have one eye on the creeping, approach of winter. October may be the month of ghosts and goblins, but watch out--for winter comes disguised as fall. So get out there and enjoy it--that's an order!!!

That's just what I have been doing. This weekend we spent an afternoon at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, along with everyone else it seemed, but the hordes of people did not detract from the glory of the day. The display of pumpkins and gourds satisfied the love affair I have with those fall fruits, although the scarecrows scattered in the gardens did not do their job--being more of a welcoming presence than a deterrent to garden thieves. The annual flower beds had been cleared, but we barely noticed the bareness as we were showered by a pirate's treasure chest of gold coins--leaf after leaf floating around us, fluttering in the breeze. The herb garden after the first frost had lost much of its vitality, but you could see what it had been, remnants of its youth. Even at the end of their useful days, there was beauty in the fading colors and withered shapes. I find hope in that. 

Sunday afternoon I wrapped myself in a shawl and headed to our side garden for some reading time in the sun. Just like all the doomsayers in our midst, I told myself I better do this one more time before winter forbids such luxury. As I shook the leaves off the cushion, I realized I had not enjoyed this outdoor space enough. How many excuses there were--it's too hot or too buggy or I think I will take a walk instead, or I will have more time for that tomorrow. Fall can become a season of regrets. I think about what I could have done, should have done and wonder how I am possibly going to do everything I want to do in the time remaining.    I sit with that question often these days, the fall of my life. 

Yesterday I drove to a town in Wisconsin about 90 minutes away from here to meet two long time friends. Only a week ago I had driven that same route, a familiar, often-traveled highway, but how different it seemed yesterday--so much change in one week. Where were those reds last week? The day was grey and overcast, and I occasionally needed to turn on the windshield wipers, but I was grateful for the misty moistness which allowed me to adjust to the intensity of the color. 

I eased into the red. Many years ago I had a stunning red hat and when I wore it, I would always get compliments from total strangers. I was noticed in a way I was not used to and not completely comfortable with. I decided to prepare myself for the attention by wearing the hat at home for awhile before leaving the house. The wispy veil over the reds yesterday seemed to be a practice session, too--just wait till you see us in all our splendor. 

The eagle I saw standing guard in an almost empty tree punctuated the day. Now is the time. Don't miss this. Don't wait. If not now, when? 

The squirrel who chattered at me while I sat in the garden the other day knows the importance of the present. He had nuts to gather. "Time is a wasting," he seemed to say, scolding me for being in his way. He proved his point, I discovered the next morning when I opened the front door and saw the damage he had done--I know it was him--on one of our pumpkins. Oh well.


Today is that day, I announce to the eagle and the squirrel and the leaves coating the front yard. Sun is promised, and we are going on a fall color tour with friends along the St Croix River. Such a senior citizen thing to do!!! Aren't we lucky, and besides, winter is just around the corner! 

An Invitation
How are you living in these fall days? What are you uncovering as the leaves fall? What does fall moving into winter mean to you? I would love to know.