Everything is slowing down, but there are chores to do, and moments of magic to come
There is a moment when it hits you, like the end of an affair. There were signs you missed, maybe chose to ignore. The response to your touch less immediate. The magic diminished. Face it. It is over. Approaching winter’s already won; summer’s sun has fallen. The brightest days of autumn cannot beat the retreat.
I am ever-alert for this moment. The first day you see the seedlings struggle. When new growth is a shadow of just weeks before. Stunted now, slowed.
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