After I finished writing this, I stepped outside to sit in the sun, and my yard had a mixed flock of Cedar Waxwings and sparrows in our trees. Please share your observations, I would love to hear from you.
Gorgeous post. Beautiful reflections. And the term zugunruhe is new for me. It's such a magical time of transition. I share your tendency to feel very awake and grounded you feel in new places. My mind craves novelty!
Zugunruhe is also my favorite time of the year. The sound of crackling leaves under my steps awakes the adventurous child in me. Although nature in motion is not easily noticeable in New York, a city that seems in perpetual motion. Yet autumn still invites us to consider the privilege of the roof above our head and the earlier nights enticing us to cuddle up on the couch with loved ones, or a book.
The rains returned to Seattle: cold, wet, grey. The bigger drops pelt windows, the smaller ones mist every surface. It's time to dig out the rain fenders, wool socks, and bright rain jackets and embrace bottom bracket deep puddles that could swallow you whole.
Living on Cape Cod, flocks of humans begin their migration in the fall. Docks disappear from the water, harbingers of colder weather. My pickleball practice partner leaves mid October for Florida. Dogs will soon be allowed on the beach.
After I finished writing this, I stepped outside to sit in the sun, and my yard had a mixed flock of Cedar Waxwings and sparrows in our trees. Please share your observations, I would love to hear from you.
Gorgeous post. Beautiful reflections. And the term zugunruhe is new for me. It's such a magical time of transition. I share your tendency to feel very awake and grounded you feel in new places. My mind craves novelty!
Zugunruhe is also my favorite time of the year. The sound of crackling leaves under my steps awakes the adventurous child in me. Although nature in motion is not easily noticeable in New York, a city that seems in perpetual motion. Yet autumn still invites us to consider the privilege of the roof above our head and the earlier nights enticing us to cuddle up on the couch with loved ones, or a book.
The rains returned to Seattle: cold, wet, grey. The bigger drops pelt windows, the smaller ones mist every surface. It's time to dig out the rain fenders, wool socks, and bright rain jackets and embrace bottom bracket deep puddles that could swallow you whole.
Oh yes, I remember those rains well from when I lived in Olympia. Nothing to do but put on your portable sauna (i.e. rain gear) and do it anyway.
Living on Cape Cod, flocks of humans begin their migration in the fall. Docks disappear from the water, harbingers of colder weather. My pickleball practice partner leaves mid October for Florida. Dogs will soon be allowed on the beach.
This is my very favorite time of year. Beautiful.