We have reached that time of year where the seasonal shift can be felt in the texture and temperature of the air, the smell of Pine trees readying themselves for Winter, the colors of the leaves morphing like a Chameleon, and the rising and setting of the
Sun. That golden Star bathing the Earth with light and warmth begins its yawning ascent at later hours of the morning, and retires below the horizon earlier in the evening.
"Wonder is part fascination, part ability to believe in things as they are, part willingness to be confused, even devastated at times, by the epic mysteriousness of ordinary things." - Stephen Jenkinson, Die Wise
I woke this morning to journey out to the horses before the Sun ever began its sharp and vibrant dance across the Sky. Driving along the darkened streets with but a few others passing by, I rested in the silence that morning brings. Life is still wrestling with the Angels of the Dreamworld, descending even deeper into Psyche's realm of limitless possibility where Mystery orchestrates a Great Remembering of who we are through archetype, symbol, color, word and song. The little Birds rested along the limbs of the Trees while the Owls finished their nightly trek, absorbing the last of the moonlight into their velvety feathers.