The Art of Allowing, Transition.

As the season is transitioning, the light is softening into a gold elixir hazy dream experience, and the leaves are turning new and vibrant colors. The holly tree that produced small green berries in the summer heat, is offering red skins that deepen in color with each passing day. As lovely as these gem like berries are to witness, I see the small birds of the garden seeking them out for food as the days grow shorter. The bush is shaking quickly as the berries are being plucked by the titmouse. A part of me wants to say;

 'Stop! Please wait...'

 Moments like this make the transition time bittersweet. 

I sometimes notice a little bit of deeper resistance in my own physiology as these changing season times emerge. I feel like these moments arise with a little bit of melancholy. The brief sadness is not because there is anything specific to be sad about, rather it is a passing of time kind of sadness.

Already the hummingbirds are actively feeding to prepare for their journeys to warmer climates. 

The farmer's markets are coming to an end and the acorns are falling. 

The first acorns fell last week, and my internal response was mixed. Delight for cooler weather and new colors but morose because the colored leaves will follow. 

Today my felt sense was to lean into the transition with a more open heart and allow the details of change to be noticed rather than turning away from them with tension. 

I am sharing pictures that I have taken in the past few weeks that have captured the delicate changes in colors, textures and intensities of the natural world.

I decided that this week ahead, will be marked by more attention, more observation and more beauty. Rather than bemoaning the drying flowers, I will stay with them and capture their elegant decay and their wilting forms. 

What I am hearing is 'be kind with the process and let it happen, rest with it, sit with the shift and just be the observer of what is happening in this very moment.'

As I write this piece, there is a hawk crying overhead and hummingbirds and wasps are competing for nectar before the days draws to the close. They pull me into their natural rhythms and beg of me to give them a few minutes of my time. 

In Chinese medicine, this is the time of letting go, of allowing and keeping an eye on the health of our lungs and immunity. As cooler nights emerge, wrap in a little more warmth and stay gentle in the period of closing in...