As I settle into Autumn, the waning time of the year, my attention is being caught by the glorious, distracting colours of the tree leaves and my thoughts become a-flurry with the swirling leaves and rushed along by the winds.
I am drawn to a snail wending it’s way up a wall,
a brilliant leaf fused to a stone slab by heavy rain,
the reassuring cycle of Love. A paradox of death and renewal, birth and decay.
Still. It is time to turn inward.
This is a time to walk a darkened path; familiar, yet unfamiliar; known, yet edgy. But only so far at a time. I’ve been down there before, only this time, I am not alone.
This is a time to gaze at obsidian reflected candlelight in the cosiness of home, at the kitchen table.
I adore this time of year, the time of spiralling inwards.