misty mountains

"We are constantly in a situation of applying the condition of re-adjustment." - Gregge Tiffen

As day breaks this morning, we’re in the path of two colliding weather systems – a winter storm moving in from the north and west, the remnants of a hurricane from the east. The beautiful vistas I often share are hidden in the clouds. These two systems won’t compete. They will simply meet and create our weather for the next couple days. At the moment it’s a gentle rain. The showers could continue, or they could become snow or flash flooding.

It’s a transition time, that time when it can be frosty one morning and 50 degrees the next. It’s a time for completing the harvest on the one hand, preparing for winter on the other. Re-adjustment. We’ve brought in all but the hardiest root veggies and a few winter squash. I’m curious whether the green tomatoes will ripen slowly enough to last until Thanksgiving as they did last year.

Preparing for winter in the mountains means procuring and stacking wood, shifting the summer fire ‘go bags’ (those things that I’d need to survive and those things I treasure in the event of an evacuation due to fire) to the winter ‘emergency travel bag’ (what I need to survive in an emergency on the road), and making sure that I have food and water on hand for at least a couple weeks in the event of a major storm. It also means moving clothes around in the closet – putting away the short sleeves and pulling out the turtlenecks, sweaters and scarves for soon those 50 degree mornings will be just a memory and the frost will be a deep freeze. Re-adjustment continued.

And, after a busy active summer – buying and improving a home along with opening a B&B, I notice an internal transition as well. I feel a pull to draw inward, not to hibernate but to slow down, to assess my ‘year to date’, and, in this time between the full moon lunar eclipse this week and the solar eclipse that will come with the new moon in a couple weeks, to look ahead to what experiences I want to create in the winter months ahead. Re-adjusting from the inside out.

That’s the invitation that the change of seasons (any change really!) brings. So as you don the winter clothes and put away your summer duds (or the reverse, if you happen to be in the southern hemisphere), give yourself the time and attention to invite your soul to join the party. 

What is its longing as light of days shortens and the darkness makes its presence more known?