I took this photo at 6:23 AM on Sunday, September 12th.
Is it the world on fire? (Not really a trick question?)
This is just a gorgeous sunrise here in this brave little state of Vermont. Captured where our driveway and the road meet, across the road from our neighbor’s freshly mown hayfield, it’s a reminder that there’s beauty in the darkest of days. Across the fence from the hayfield is our other neighbor’s yurt, a place that shelters a friend of theirs.
I’ve tried to show up here at sewandsowlife multiple times.
But, damn, it’s getting harder and harder.
Yet I’m determined to keep my head up and face reality and still believe in light and love and hope.
We’ve had a bit of rain the last few days and people are so, so happy. I heard somewhere that this has been the driest summer here in VT since 1890. Neighbors have had trouble with their wells, farmers are concerned about having enough feed for their livestock this winter. We harvested some of our veggies early so we did not have to water them anymore (our rain barrel has been empty for weeks). We’ve had serious trouble with deer for the first time since we bought this place. I’m guessing it’s because their normal sources of food were compromised by the drought and their sense of fear was diminished. Our gardens, which are very close to the house, were a salad bar for them. We’ll need to rethink all of that next spring. The danger of wildfires has been off the charts. So, thank you Mother Nature, for finally blessing us with some steady, soaking rain.
I’ve taken to creating quiet little spots around the house, where I can pause, breathe, recenter. Coming home from the “real world” and spotting our annual vase of sunflowers on the porch helps me transition into home-sweet-home mode. Holding a pebble in my hand brings me back to the present moment, where I can regain my composure. It works like a charm. I’m thinking maybe it is a charm.
The Equinox has come and gone and now we are tidying up the garden which is beautifully connected to enjoying the foliage. Inhaling the fresh air, stretching to the sky, thanking the gardens for their yeoman’s work this summer, dreaming about next spring’s planting…
Working on another “softie”, using a pattern purchased from Alicia Paulson years ago, I ordered wool felt and a few other supplies from Benzie Design, based in Plainfield, Il. Their package arrived promptly and was a delight to open. I’m working full steam ahead on this fox, someone’s third birthday is coming up…
Because my volunteer work is so fraught with peril these days, (not for profits vs “he who shall to be named”. Need I say more?) I’ve been deliberately trying to balance the stress with small comforts, like sewing, crafting, snail mail…
I just discovered cut+paste magazine. What fun! Check it out here. I was happy to find that I could purchase single issues vs subscribing for a whole year, so I can check it out first. I’m going to make time this weekend to play with its contents.
Once in a great while, I pop over to Substack. I found this excellent piece that you might enjoy, too. Written by Paul Shattuck, it outlines 80 small ways to stay human in these challenging times.
I listened to The Oysterville Sewing Circle, by Susan Wiggs on Libro.com while sewing in my studio last week. The plot was predictable from the start, but gosh it was an easy escape.
That’s all I’ve got this time around, dearest readers. I think of you out there, spread across different time zones, stages of life, and lifestyles. But I take comfort in knowing that we’re kindred spirits, seeking a better world.
My favorite quote these days is from Rumi, the great Sufi mystic and poet.
If everything around you seems dark, look again.
You may be the light.
Sending all of you love, light and hope.