There is much stirring – here, I can feel and see the beginning of the end of summer. A transition time where I know what has been, partially and in some ways, and I do not yet see or hear or taste or smell nor can touch what is coming. There have been oh-so-many possibilities recently, some taken, some not, some missed altogether.  The ones that I have taken, like the brief ride of yesterday – that ended up many hours, many miles, much mud later – in a glorious set of discoveries; I imagine that the ones not taken and those missed could have also been spectacular. And, I will never know.

The stirring I am feeling, as I sense into it, is much more urgent that I initially thought. (Thoughts do seem to want to temper emotions, nearly always; and not always is this to the best of ends.) Ah – it is the urgent stirrings of Autumn, a season whose boundaries ebb from summer and flow into winter, not necessarily in synch with the calendar. Autumn means for me some added hustle of those tasks that need to get done before the cold comes, before there are shorter days, before the ground gets too hard, before … before.

Oh, I understand. Like that dissertation…need to get to it….before….

Like life….need to get to it…before I die and move to whatever is next….what is it that keeps me from getting to it? I have this stirring urgency and I don’t get to it.