Dawn: November 8, 2022

New Revision Series

As the sun rises over the horizon I am content not knowing what this day, and the days following, will bring. Eclipses come with warnings from many cultures and practices. There have been many cautions these last few years that played out in real time, when some form of alternate reality replaced what had been known until then. This process continues.

There was a small chunk of the eclipsed moon missing around 4:30 a.m. on the coast of Maine. It’s cold: yesterday’s 70’s now replaced by a 40 degree chill, far more suited to the calendar.

I’ve chosen, or it became obvious, it was time for me to rethink this time of life and what, if anything, could be done to improve or rectify what I’ve perceived as deterioration. The blessing, the joy, of living in such close proximity to the ocean fulfilled a dream that felt beyond possible. Coming here, I did not once think of what might come “after”. Is that now? Do any of us possess certainty after Covid, after years of divisive politics, our personal climates so altered as to be unrecognizable? 

In these last few weeks many of us began to experience the weather conditions as anomalies, as a first hand feel of climatic alterations. This has not been “Indian Summer” which comes after cold. There’s been no cold. Rains of monsoon quality fell followed by substantial days of warming. New buds are on the impatiens in the pots planted last May and the diascias unique pinkness has burst forth in profusion from plants shriveled by the summer’s drought. But it’s November. There’s not yet been a killing frost. 

Into the unknown we hurtle: Elections. Climate. Geography. Connections. The awareness isn’t necessarily a desire to return to what was but instead, to turn to improving what’s improve-able. There are absolutely no guarantees for anything henceforth.

May we all learn to accept what comes.

November Blossoms

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