trust: the folding nature of time. or: memory and thought and the present moment
I've been noticing a lack of reds in the autumnal leaves around me.
oh, they're there (a few, here and there) but I think either they've already mostly peaked, or haven't peaked yet.
today, a photo in my daily facebook memories reminded me of my past obsession with maple leaves. our first apartment in NJ had maples in the front and back yard, as well as at least one oak and some others I'm forgetting. but it was the maples I loved most especially. orange and red and oh, yes.
this to me is the blessing of autumn. the cold, which is hard for me, is mitigated by the colors of the leaves as they turn towards their inevitable death.
(and then winter, with its snow and ice and even more cold, made beautiful by the snow and ice and stark bare branches contrasting with the evergreens and manmade light we find draped over most suburban yards.)
but here we are in autumn. there's a lot of green leaves still here, and plenty of bare branches already, too. different trees leaves fall at different times. I don't really know this area well enough to be able to figure out where to go for maple, so I look to my archives.
and I keep my eyes open, learning what there is from what is around me.
last evening R and I went to Target because he needed a few more long sleeve shirts (we brought all his clothes with us on this trip, but of course he outgrew most of last winter's long sleeve shirts already).
as we came out, the waxing gibbeous moon and the bare branches in the parking lot and the pastel yes of sunset had me reaching for my phone.
(the best camera is the one you have with you and that is the truth.)
I won't pine for the photos I could have taken if I'd had my gx85. because the photos I got are enough to remind future me of that feeling in the parking lot, after having gone searching through both the boy's and men's department for black long sleeve shirts and finding just the amount my son needed, and how lucky I am, how lucky I am, how lucky I am.
and these photos remind me of the bourgeoning artistic expansion that moving to NJ and being surrounded by autumn in all it's glory and having time on my hands while R was at school and finally, finally, finally coming out of the sleep deprivation of his earliest years (it would still be a few more years before he let me sleep through the entire night, consistently, but it was definitely a turning point for us, his being four and a half and slowing down his speech enough to be understood and being able to sleep for longer stretches).
remembering is good.
the present moment is also good.
and may the future moment be good, too.
we experience time linearly (first this happens, then that) but because of memory and thought, we also experience the burrito nature of time, too. the folding in and out of our linear reality with what was and what could be.
and yes, the present moment is where we experience this. so staying present to what is involves also staying present to thought and memory and the folding and enfolding of the three.
sitting this morning with my cup of coffee as I scroll through facebook memories, remembering the trees at our old house, seeing the trees in the yard behind me, thinking about the trees that we'll be seeing next week in Wisconsin.
thankful that I ordered myself a thick wool sweater from etsy when I couldn't find one at Goodwill earlier this week. swants the fifth, here we come!