The paintbrush of August; Harvest season: when our ripe fruits need picking, seed pods are dispersing, and nervous energy of sunshine months is at its highest.
We are in the thick of things, some of us still drastically flattened by the curve of life, others riding the jagged waves— to distance or not too distant, how do I remain relevant. As school choices are upon us, planning and order starts to rob us: it’s our last chance. To curl inward, not outward— stay the course, the plants are curling too. In this great “pre-Autumn” season, the second half (or second chance) of 2024, we have arrived at this “wreck”oning.
(But the infinite curling, always whispering “You are Safe”, you are healed… Rest easy.)
Choose correctly, my friend. It’s August.
It’s almost the Season of the “Winds”; the breezes breed the fall; breathing new hope. Falling 🍂 Autumn leaves room for gorgeous budding and growth (come spring). Release whatever you’re seeding right now. Don’t be afraid to let go; the fear holds your future at bay. Not too fast, jump with two feet as you plunge into this favored season of beauty and planning. 🧡
Wyoming’s Wildflowers
Wyoming’s high country bursts into a final crescendo of color before autumn whispers its arrival, and the Indian paintbrush stands proudly among the wild tapestry. Its fiery red-orange blooms blaze against the sagebrush and granite, like brushstrokes from a bold and ancient hand. It’s more than just a flower; it’s a symbol of resilience and fleeting beauty. These blooms come late and vivid, as if defying the coming chill. We pause to admire the multi-colored flame-like petals. For a moment, the landscape feels like it’s telling a story; one of endurance, wildness, and the quiet joy of being exactly where you are.
