The Moon on My Lips
September 29, 2007
In the fall every hour of sunshine is precious for the bees. Now that it is growing colder, bee sightings in our neighborhood have grown increasingly rare. Two days ago I did see three bumblebees footling about in the purple fringed asters across the street. It was quite late in the afternoon. On Tuesday I took this photo of a rain-sopped bumblebee drying out on one of our tall coneflower blossoms.
The cold drives us back into our shelters where we snuggle down with our warm blankets and sort through our drying seeds. We store summer's sun in our skin, our memories, our dried fruits and beans, in the photo albums and eyes of our souls. We rage against the dying of the light, but with deep sighs let in the cleansing winds of fall. I wipe the full moon across my lips, and it cleanses me too, like a celestial communion wafer. I see one last white lavender blossom and think, "Yes, white lavender is a beautiful as the moon." Fall is bewitching. It gets under our skin and warns us to prepare for the cold days to come. Are you ready for the first frost? Pray for sunshine. Stay warm.
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