Welcome to November and to All Saints Day. That's one of the things that made yesterday Halloween. Before it was All Hallow's Eve, October 31 was celebrated as Samhain, a Celtic festival. Tomorrow is All Souls Day, another feast that was and still is a pagan celebration of Day of the Dead. This morning's dawn came in peach and fuchsia and tangerine and fire and shades in between. The the sun rose and grey clouds thickened and the day's colors turned drab.
Now that we're past All Hallow's Eve, it's time to start preparing for Thanksgiving. This is a time of year and a holiday when I really miss Massachusetts. Before my long ago move to Minnesota, I lived a short, very short, drive from Plymouth Rock and Plimouth Plantation. Their nearness plus my family's home in Boston, created a sense of history I haven't yet found in Minnesota. On the bright side, when I lived there, Massachusetts was just starting its successful reintroduction of wild turkeys. There was no opportunity back then to see something like this in my back yard.
wild turkey gobbler strutting for hen
Photo by J. Harrington
So, as I start to look back on this year I can find a lot to be grateful for, starting with an addition to the family. I now have a son-in-law. I've had a couple of things I've written get accepted for publication. My photography is slowly improving and I applied successfully for an Individual Artist's Development Grant from the East Central Regional Arts Council. A minor set back may have occurred if the deer ate the new lilac bush to death. We won't know that for sure until next Spring. A more notable aggravation will disappear after Tuesday. If political ads don't improve, I may stop watching tv or start voting for whichever candidate and/or party has the least offensive adds. I'm tempted to start voting that way this election. Then, again, our souls can celebrate like Tagore's things in life more important than elections.
(“My soul is alight...”)
My soul is alight with your infinitude of stars. Your world has broken upon me like a flood. The flowers of your garden blossom in my body. The joy of life that is everywhere burns like an incense in my heart. And the breath of all things plays on my life as on a pipe of reeds.
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.