Changing days … and nights

If I don’t hurry up and at least get something posted, September will pass me right by. That’s the way of the summer months, filled with chopping, slicing and dicing, drying, canning, cooking — and of course, eating.

The sun is decidedly moving southward, more quickly every day. Once again Simon’s early morning walk requires a flashlight, and Compline is sung while the day’s bright summer dress is transformed to an evening gown of subtle grays.

The latest storms (Hannah and a robust local number two days later) are washing away the back corner — the Mary garden — by the chapel. I noticed the effluent wash-out the morning after Hannah passed through, and tracked it back up the hill to the now quite hole-y Mary garden. Apparently both chapel drain pipes are thoroughly clogged; this will take some ingenuity and very hard work to correct. If it hadn’t been for the lady’s mantle, lillies, impatiens and other glorious plants surrounding Mary’s feet, we might well have lost the entire corner, perhaps endangering the chapel itself. Mary herself was tilted dangerously forward as a result of the rush of water, so she has been moved closer to the chapel window.

Life is always entwined with change, transformation, and death. I’m usually caught off-guard when it appears so quickly, like the great holes that yawned at Mary’s feet in less than half a day. But life wouldn’t exist at all without those changes. In the best of minds, we surrender to their inevitability, knowing that growth and new life cannot occur without their blessing.

In our less enlightened moments we resist the daylights out of the whole idea.

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