Nestled in Quietude 

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" ... she experienced each year this lifting of the spirits

as August slipped away, off the calendar,

and one could stop pretending that it was summer."


: Rosamunde Pilcher :


August days.

golden sunlight.

crisp evenings walking the trails.

admiring the breathtaking sunsets,

the play of light and shadows on the hills.

settling in nicely to this new place we call home.

school begins.

she's in seventh, he's a sophomore.

happy to see their sweet faces each day at pick up.

savoring the silence of the afternoons,

a fine balance between heart filling/soul sustaining projects

and the daily obligations of mothering and home-tending.

reminding myself that I have time enough to do what needs to be done.

always.









" That need to set down words -

what I see, so - but words, words mostly -

words have been all my life -

this need is like the spider's need

who carries before her a huge burden of silk

which she must spin out -

the silk is her life, her home, her safety -

her food and her drink too -

and if it is attacked or pulled down,

why, what can she do must make more,

spin afresh, design anew."


{Possession}


" If I were a perfect person, I would be bowing continually.

I'm not, though I pause

whenever I feel this holiness.

Which is why I'm so often late in coming back

from wherever I went.

Forgive me."


{Mary Oliver}


The days begin to feel settled, softer,

laced with the loveliness of late summer. A familiar rhythm begins to unfold,

the comforts of routine and ritual renewed.

Early mornings walks while the air holds the coolness of the night,

inhaling, exhaling, one step, one step....

Observing with sheer delight this new landscape before my eyes,

the peace and tranquility my heart holds.

Gratitude for the holiness of this moment, this place.