walk 56: September 2- the sun hung low over the field at the college with a strange coolness, when I finally made it outdoors. Once I got home I walked to the labyrinth and as soon as I stepped outside storm clouds gathered overhead and it was suddenly dark although to the west the sunset now glowed pink. The winds at the labyrinth caused leaves to fall like the raindrops I soon expected, and each one felt like an insect or a bat brushing against me. More than once I wanted to veer from the path, but I found I wanted to stay on it and bravely continue. Sometimes commitment feels very foolish. On the way home, the rain finally came down but I was grateful that it was so gentle. The lightning patterns reminded me that my niece called them God’s bracelets in the sky when she was a little girl.
walk 57-59: September 3-5 The storm seems to have left the garden changed. The maple leaves, always so brilliant have all wilted on the tree as if they have been in the frying pan. Many of them line the paths, tiny red octopi, more animal than plant. The verbena, my little contribution to the garden, has no more flowers. Back at home I continue to stock my bird feeders, but the flocks of birds dancing on the telephone wires in a loosely choreographed modern dance are nowhere to be found, although the squirrel continues to feast, bowing before his favorite feeder as if in prayer. My walks cannot overcome the weariness from the endless onslaught of the first weeks of school and the intriques and the injustices great and small. I walk barefoot, I walk in full office regalia. I walk. My sister places a picture of herself as a child with my mother at the beach on facebook. The picture is on its side and the caption reads “Love is when you are at a loss for words.” It is the anniversary of my mother’s death. The picture is uploaded on its side, which makes it more remote and heartbreaking. My adorable sister at 3 years old with taut and happy energy, laughing, My mother holding her, smiling easily and knowingly behind her chic sunglasses. I open it all day and each time, it stuns me. The Love.