Thursday October 1st, 2020

Binaakwii-Giizis (October) Falling Leaves Moon 1st, 2020

Just as first light twinkles through the woodland boughs, a breeze arouses the yellow-orange leaves remaining in the tops of trees. It stirs the dew from atop their fallen brethren who bivouacked overnight in the lee of hummocks and sunflower stalks whose bird-pecked faces and withered heads bow solemnly, never again to rise and meet the dawn again. The sun arises above the trees! The birds begin singing. There’s nary another sound beyond wind in the trees that I can hear and I am overjoyed that I’ve lived another day to witness this, and I give s big hurrah to whatever life force ‘out there’ that has enabled it to be so. A lone goose calls plaintively from the north having survived an ambush. Clouds mask the sun. Humankind awakens far off and I think not far enough from me. I’ve long preferred natural light over artificial light. It sets moods, inspires my imagination, and re-energizes me to set my penpoint to paper again. I’ve been long away from the sun rising and the stars at night, although I’ve been outdoors almost every day in this wondrous late-September of 2020. Not everyone sees this September positively, but to dwell on our global circumstances here - now, doesn’t seem appropriate. To think of sun-rise mornings perhaps as someone who has leaned against a the frame of a dried manure-splattered barn door with the smell of silage and cattle around you, the sun striking your face for that stolen moment there those many years ago. It just seems the center of the universe . . . Or upon a sailboat on the Atlantic, the peaceful ocean heaving up against the soles of your shoes. The boom glistening with moisture; sails luffing; the almost seamless horizon around you of water and sky. A shark fins breaks the surface. Or those many mornings in commuter traffic on your way to work, the sun glaring through the windshields and you just want to be somewhere else in it. Or looking across a vast cityscape from a hospital window as the sun reflects from glass-walled buildings and moving vehicles; glowing geysers of steam writhe from roof vents. Aye, but here, for today, the sun is upon my face outside my house along Mikinaak Creek where I sit upon a folding chair, writing. I hear the birds trilling from the trees and creek grasses; robins hop about the yard, chirping. The wind rises and falls in voluminous gusts. A single leaf spirals to the ground with joy in its being, real or imagined. Happy October 1st.