At dawn this morning I beheld you in the sky –
a perfect pale round.
Last night your blue light guided me home.
The deep desert silence was
broken only by coyotes
singing just for you.
At midnight the Great Horned owl whoos,
narrating Her story.
The harvest is upon us;
The sun slips low on the horizon and shadows deepen.
(Oh, the gift of changing Light)
A multitude of seeds are scattered by west winds…
Give thanks for this abundance!
bring dreams on your wings,
and hope for hungry hearts.
The dove will sing again.
Gratitude flows through me like the Chama
winding her way to the sea.
I pause this morning to hear Earth’s symphony.
All month I have been living in the kind of chaos that disturbs the natural cycles that guide me through my life. Only during the last few days have I finally had some relief, and I have had deadlines to meet that have taken precedence over everything including the waxing of the second full harvest moon. But I have been participating in “the gathering in” just the same making trip after trip into the desert to gather sweet sage, pinion nuts, sticky pitch laden pine cones – to feast my eyes on the abundance of wildflowers that spring out of desert sand. I am saying good bye to the hummingbirds, wishing them well on their arduous journey. I watch with deep pleasure the covey of quail that come in for seed. I keep a sharp eye out for the baby rabbits, and each night look forward to that time -in the crack between worlds – when the sky catches fire and the light shifts every nanosecond. I am so much in love with the desert sky. As soon as the sun slips over the horizon Venus has begun her climb and will soon rise over the horizon to join Arcturus already positioned higher in the western sky. This month I give thanks for Lily’s life, for neighbors whose kindness fills me to the brim with thanksgiving and joy, and for being in a desert that has made me feel so at home…