Ganeida's Knots

Autumn is a weather~cock, Blown every way...Christina Rosetti.





Autumn is the best of all worlds. The worst of the heat is gone but the sunshine soaks into aching bones & gently warms them. The edges of the day are sharply crystalline. There is a glitter to the light & a crisp crunch to the air. At night the stars blaze like fireworks in a vast & inky sky, the cats come looking for laps, snuggling purrs, the wool comes out, the crotchet hooks come out, Ditz & I snuggle under doonas while I read aloud. Yes, I still read aloud to my 14 year old.



Autumn is subtle. There is no brazen fall of wanton leaves all the colours of the rainbow. No frosted lace upon the grass. No hint of snow & ice to come. Autumn slinks, cat~like through a thread of days: a delicate hint of coolness like an exploring whisker, a gentle paw against the face saying, I'm here, a settling weight...The blue of Quandamooka glows darker, dances with a thousand diamonds. The rains come softly, unlike the tumultuous summer storms that rage along the gutters & thunder down the hill in a torrential display of temper. The nights grow longer. I turn the lights on when I go to prepare tea, turn them on as I come downstairs in the morning & the morning light falls differently, throwing different patterns across polished floorboards.



There is a Quaker silence to the burgeoning day; the flash of God's Spirit, a heady peace in the dappling light. My soul magnifies the Lord, my God, for He has set me in this place abounding with good things & my soul rejoices.