The last bright flames of flowers farmer's market this morning, gathered up into a whimsical bouquet. The air had a certain chill all day, a harbinger of shorter days, of early twilight, of southerly migrations.
Finally, after a week that felt slightly tumbled from it's own momentum and busyness, today was solace. A morning ramble through stalls of fresh goat cheese and honey, samosas, carrots stacked high, and golden squashes. We sat in the sun by the fountain to drink our lattes and eat freshly made croissants.
Later we watched black smiths bend hot metal--part of this weekend's ongoing art festival. They worked in perfect tandem, their hammers making pinging thuds in the crisp air.
True to my promise, I dug myself into a book for awhile when Bean took his mid day nap--Broken For You, by Stephanie Kallos, which is proving thus far to be eccentric, delightful, and well worded. It felt so good to soak up sentences. To be wholly transported into the world of fiction.
Fall brings days like this--wistful, lazy, but with a slight zing. We went running in the early evening, noticing many monarch butterflies on the milkweed along the edge of the bike path. And coming back to our neighborhood we found a new Mexican burrito place, and a lovely cafe, full of eclectic art, excellent espresso and live music.
It is so easy to become a creature of habit. To grow so accustomed to daily patterns of living that one is no longer actively aware of one's surroundings. Today I made mindfulness my mantra. I took the time to notice small things---to gather them up with my eyes and feed my soul wonder.