Honey Winds
I really loved folk music of the 60’s and 70’s – still do. Often a phrase or melody from a favorite artist will come creeping, then insisting its way into my head, and I try to remember the entire song. Thanks to Pandora radio, it’s easy to go back in time to rediscover my favorite music. The Brothers Four with their impeccable chording and timing, their mellow harmonies, gave us “The Honey Wind Blows.”
The honey wind blows and the warm days dwindle
the butterfly spins a silk cocoon on a silvery spindle
the petals fall from the last red rose, the last red rose
when the honey wind blows....
The petals fall and the summer goes, the summer goes
when the honey wind blows….
The honey wind blows and the days grow colder
somehow the world and I have grown just a little bit older
I sit alone where the fire glows, the fire glows
and the honey wind blows….
I sit alone and the good Lord knows, I miss you so
when the honey wind blows….
The honey winds of autumn are blowing across the prairies and in the Black Hills. My garden is still producing chard, lettuce, parsley and strawberries. The roses still bloom along with bee balm, Echinacea, black eyed susans, Russian sage, lupine, yarrow, marigolds, and cosmos.
Green leaves still rise from the bulbs of hyacinths, lilies, iris and star of Bethlehem reminding me that they will bloom again next spring. Ground covers are turning from green to rusty red. I’m proud of all this color and variety since just a year ago, my yard was grass and weeds and overgrown shrubs. I met many new neighbors as I dug and planted and mulched all spring and summer. Some gave me plants and gardening stories; some helped trim the shrubs and haul away the brush; others stopped to meet and greet. I’m resting from all that work now, enjoying the fruits of my labor and anticipating the exponential increase in abundance that will appear next spring.
Now the honey winds are urging me to freeze produce, to bake breads and make soups. Flannel sheets and wool blankets are on the beds, some of the windows are washed, Sophie and I walk a little faster in the chilly air. Dry leaves blow down the streets, trees are a riot of glorious color! I love autumn and yet, the anticipation of what is to come that urges the flurry of preparation, also brings melancholy about all that is ending. Autumn is a turning inward time. A quietness is descending. Autumn is a pause. It is filled with as much love and life as is spring with its newness and summer with its abundance. Having given away its fullness, autumn is an empty basket, waiting.
May you welcome the empty basket of autumn so that you may be filled!
© 5 october 2014
I really loved folk music of the 60’s and 70’s – still do. Often a phrase or melody from a favorite artist will come creeping, then insisting its way into my head, and I try to remember the entire song. Thanks to Pandora radio, it’s easy to go back in time to rediscover my favorite music. The Brothers Four with their impeccable chording and timing, their mellow harmonies, gave us “The Honey Wind Blows.”
The honey wind blows and the warm days dwindle
the butterfly spins a silk cocoon on a silvery spindle
the petals fall from the last red rose, the last red rose
when the honey wind blows....
The petals fall and the summer goes, the summer goes
when the honey wind blows….
The honey wind blows and the days grow colder
somehow the world and I have grown just a little bit older
I sit alone where the fire glows, the fire glows
and the honey wind blows….
I sit alone and the good Lord knows, I miss you so
when the honey wind blows….
The honey winds of autumn are blowing across the prairies and in the Black Hills. My garden is still producing chard, lettuce, parsley and strawberries. The roses still bloom along with bee balm, Echinacea, black eyed susans, Russian sage, lupine, yarrow, marigolds, and cosmos.
Green leaves still rise from the bulbs of hyacinths, lilies, iris and star of Bethlehem reminding me that they will bloom again next spring. Ground covers are turning from green to rusty red. I’m proud of all this color and variety since just a year ago, my yard was grass and weeds and overgrown shrubs. I met many new neighbors as I dug and planted and mulched all spring and summer. Some gave me plants and gardening stories; some helped trim the shrubs and haul away the brush; others stopped to meet and greet. I’m resting from all that work now, enjoying the fruits of my labor and anticipating the exponential increase in abundance that will appear next spring.
Now the honey winds are urging me to freeze produce, to bake breads and make soups. Flannel sheets and wool blankets are on the beds, some of the windows are washed, Sophie and I walk a little faster in the chilly air. Dry leaves blow down the streets, trees are a riot of glorious color! I love autumn and yet, the anticipation of what is to come that urges the flurry of preparation, also brings melancholy about all that is ending. Autumn is a turning inward time. A quietness is descending. Autumn is a pause. It is filled with as much love and life as is spring with its newness and summer with its abundance. Having given away its fullness, autumn is an empty basket, waiting.
May you welcome the empty basket of autumn so that you may be filled!
© 5 october 2014
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