Gray skies. Rain on the way. Part photographer. Part naturalist.
At sunrise, the pumpkins glow in the field like orange globes, lit from within.
The sight stops me in my tracks and I pull over.
One more pumpkin picture, please.
We set the clocks back an hour and it takes my body days to adjust.
I am up at sunrise, walking my neighborhood, wrapped in pink sky, bathed in golden glow.
We laughed for a while about the special parking spot for “employee of the quarter.” Do you suppose that “employee of the month” seemed a bit too easy and “employee of the year” was perhaps too much to expect?
We stood beneath the trees and watched the leaves swirl and twirl and fall to the ground. I fiddled with the camera settings trying to figure out how to stop motion. Or maybe motion blur would be better. In the end, I just took pictures and hoped.
We walked through the farmers’ market admiring fresh produce. We didn’t buy anything because inflation has us pinching our pennies.
Many days are simple and ordinary. We will share supper with my mother-in-law, figure out the Wordle for today, and finish the books that are due back to the library this week. I decide that mindfulness is my kind of meditation.
