The Waiting

A shift in energy

Hello, beautiful souls, we gather at the morning light as darkness fades once more. Let us, together, quietly sense what is to come…

There is a waiting now, a pause like a soft sigh on the breeze.

The year is waning, the flowers hang still, their heads drop towards the ground to which they will return. As I walk amongst the yellow grass, I notice how it too has taken a humble bow, how it too seems to have surrendered as Summer’s reign begins to fade.

We have had our first harvest, and now the Autumn Equinox can be felt rather than seen. It whispers in the chill of early morning and its own light, so different to that of Summer, glistens out from the ripe blackberry waiting to be picked. As I take a sip of my morning tea outside my cottage door, I sense change in the air. The darkness of the early morning startled me, caught me out and I realise, as I look the other way, that Autumn is near now. I sense a subtle smell of dampness in the air, a freshness that was not there before. Autumn is nearer than I thought and I feel my whole-body release as I take a deep exhale allowing the knowing of what is to come to wash over me like September rain.

I have noticed something else too.

The Robin, who has stayed hidden during the intensity of the summer light within the shadows to molt and regrow his feathers has begun to sing again. Quietly, softly, almost melancholy. He is preparing. Getting ready for when he sings fully with the arrival of Autumn’s earthy footsteps across the land. For when Autumn arrives, the Robin’s song will be there to greet him.

Taking another sip of tea, I walk over to my cottage gate and look across the fields, to the trees and beyond to where the stream flows ever on. The earth is waiting, holding it’s breath and as I look up, I see how the darkness is not of early morning, but of rain. Huge, blackened clouds hover; they shift and shape and I feel the breeze heightening, becoming stronger as the stillness of the land in front of me, begins to sit up, to stretch, to become alive. To reach its palms up towards the rain that will surely come.

And as I stand there, part of this awakening landscape, I feel stirring from deep within. A surge of new energy that had lay dormant for too long.

I lift my eyes towards the sky and as the first raindrops began to fall, I felt the water nourishing the land and lifting my soul with an energy I thought was long gone.

Rain had come.

Thank you for taking this gentle rest with me. I am humbled you have joined me.

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If these seasonal letters bring peace and a quiet moment to your day and you’d like to support my writing, I would see a simple cup of tea as a beautiful gift to carry on my walks.

Sending seasonal warmth to you all

Clare