Though I live on the cusp between Faery and human dwelling, it is indeed Autumn here in the Canyon. My apologies for the seemingly random resend of the Summer Solstice post by feedburner to my email subscribers. Perhaps feedburner objects to the coming cold season? In any case, we canyon folk are sadly watching the golden Cottonwood leaves be carried away by the Fall winds even as we enjoy the cooling days and downright chilly nights, and look forward to Winter’s fertility for planning and planting wild seeds that will grow in the next warm season.
Our on-site helpers made a batch of gingerbread cookies today, and I’ve been restocking the masala chai jar in anticipation of many clay mugs full of spicy warmth as the days grow shorter. Tomorrow I’ll be heading up into the White Mountains just above us to harvest White Fir, Douglas Fir, Blue Spruce, and various evergreen resins to craft into syrups, elixirs, teas, salves, incense, and much more. Scarlet Rose hips and yellow leaves gleam against the white trunks of the Aspens, somehow making it easier to hunt down shelf mushrooms or see an especially tempting swath of Usnea on the forest floor.
I hope that, wherever you are, you’re taking time to notice the shift of the seasons around you. That you feel the changing temperature of the earth beneath your feet, the sweet spice of the air as it moves across your face, hear the way the choruses of bird wing, frog song, and insect buzz quiet or louden near you, and sense the thinning of the veil as the nights lengthen.