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˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★
As I was leaving my sister's place the other evening, I caught such a beautiful scent of autumn in the air. And she must have heard me exclaim my pleasure out loud because she opened the door and breathed it in as well. And she said, the smell of autumn. It was so tangible in that moment. Dry leaves, woodsmoke, earthy and musky-sweet . . . the sugary smell of maple mingled with the last vestiges of the summer's warmth . . . evaporating slowly into the ether.
It is a smell that I love, and it takes me back to all of the autumns of my lifetime. Autumn is a one-of-a-kind smell that wraps us up in a comforting mix of biology, nostalgia, science and magic, pure magic. Soothing . . . almost like a warm and cozy hug.
These last few weeks we have had some frosts. Our first of the autumn. Not terrifically deep, quite half-hearted but enough to take out the flower basket that decorated the front of my home all these summer months and turn it into a dead basket . . . a mere whisper of the glory it once brought.
All the gardens up and down the street have been put to bed now. Plants trimmed back and soil overturned for the last time this year. All is in preparation now for the really cold weather which lies ahead of us. The tall weeds in the ditch which runs along the road which passes to the East of us do not seem so disgraceful now. Occasionally you will come across something which still blooms, like a forgotten sun, hanging on a frost-burnt vine. The last love, a note of the hunting horn, sweet on the threadbare wind, the dregs of sherry in the bottle, the final flight of the grackle blowing above the ravished cornfield . . .
You will still see the occasional brown field, empty save a few lost pumpkins which sadly got left behind, their bright orange color popping against the starkness of everything else. Forgotten . . . you almost want to pick them up and cuddle them close, whispering "there, there" into their invisible ears . . . I see you. You are not forgotten.
Yesterday, as I was on my way to my sister's place to pick her up, I was thinking about eyes and how they truly are the windows to the soul. About how someone can look very unremarkable and almost unattractive. and then you look deep into their eyes, and . . . like a special kind of magic, they become beautiful because their eyes reflect back to you the depth of their hopes and dreams, the measure of the soul behind them, their joys, their sorrows, the beauty that lies within.
Beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder. This is true of everything. It is what looks out of our own eyes that makes loveliness. The essential you leaps from your eyes and is visible to all who take the time to notice. The beauty of your youth is there, no matter what has ravaged your outsides. The imprint of your inner loveliness . . . your beautiful soul and all that it carries. Your past. Your present. Your future.
I've always been observant, cognizant of the world around me. I am grateful for that. By being so I have collected jewels that are mine to hold in my heart, riches that are mine alone, that nobody can take away from me. Of significant worth . . . to me. I carry them with me always and they bear no weight. They are not unwieldly. They do not need a special case to hold them. They do not need me to protect them from the elements or prying eyes, fingers, hands.
And whilst my thoughts and observations may be similar to those of others, they are also very unique to me.
All week long I have been watching an episode or two of the Mary Tyler Moore show each evening on YouTube. I really enjoy them. When I am watching them, they really bring a smile to my heart. I am a girl again. Just the theme song does it. It is great escapism from much of the negativity of the days we are living in. It was a much simpler time.
I have not much else to say this morning except to thank you for the many prayers and happy thoughts being offered on the behalf of my dear brother. I will keep you up to date with what is going on. It is early days yet and decisions as far as treatment etc. have not been made. Hopefully he will not have to wait overly long for his CT scan.
Also, my dear friend Aileen passed away yesterday from Liver Cancer. Please pray for her family. Thank you.
A thought to carry with you . . .
In The English Kitchen today . . . Six Perfect Brownies. Perfect for the smaller family or for someone who doesn't want an overload of temptation sitting on the counter. Rich, dense, chewy, fudgy, delicious.
I hope you have a beautiful weekend! I hope to do a video today and tomorrow afternoon I am having my next booster. I finally managed to bag an appointment! Whatever you get up to, stay safe, be happy and don't forget!
These are some of the things in life that I enjoy, and which make me happy, inspire me, or put a smile on my face. Maybe some of them are yours too. Let's share!
Acorns . . . I love their little caps.
Cranberries. As sauce, in breads, cakes, pies . . . love them.
Autumn teapots . . .
Pretty pies . . . especially if pecans are involved . . .
Poppies . . .
Counted Cross Stitch . . . used to do a lot of it.
Chips . . .
Shirley Temple . . .
Pretty cardigans . . .
Jars in frilly caps . . .
Scarecrows . . .
The ballet . . .
Pumpkins, gourds and squashes . . .
The majesty of nature . . .
Tender beauty . . .
Birch bark . . .
Owls . . . they look so wise . . .
Beautiful. Is this a painting or is it real? I cannot tell.
And those are my favorite things for this week. Hoping some of them were yours also.
A thought to carry with you . . .
In The English Kitchen today . . . Everything Bagel Biscuits. Delicious!
I hope you have a wonderful day today. Fill it with some of your favorite things! I am not sure what I will get up to yet, but it will be something! Whatever you do, don't forget!