Transitions

We thought that the rain and wind storm this week would take down the fall foliage, but this is the sight we awoke to this morning. Oh, my. All around the farm the transition to colder days is underway. Take a look…

The sheep are regrowing their thick coats, the pigs are enjoying gamboling about in the leaves (that’s Chipmunk), the chickens aren’t venturing far from the barn as the days grow shorter, and the compost pile shows signs of the last of the corn. That’s the farm house. Diane has her firewood stacked for the winter. There will soon be smoking chimneys all around the farm as we nestle in.

Here’s the Little House, snug on the side of Mount Israel. We feel so fortunate to live here, and at this time I’m most aware of the thinning of the veil between this life and the next. Last Sunday we tucked in my nephew and godson Ernie into the family graveyard beside one of the farm fields. He was 42 years old, taken by cancer. Ernie wanted a bench as his memorial, where people could sit and look up at the mountain. It’s a sweet bench.

And lastly, sister Carol, sister-in-law Diane and I made a post-hurricane trip down to Florida to say goodbye to our brother Geoff. He passed through the veil last Saturday, also taken by cancer, exactly one week before his and his wife Helen’s 45th wedding anniversary. So much sadness but also so much love. We treasure our time with our family even more and revel in this beautiful land that holds us close. Here’s a photo of me and Todd (on the left) with Geoff and his wife Helen taken a few years ago when we visited them at their Naples, Florida home. We will miss him dearly, but like his brother Peter, Geoff is still very much with us. God bless him and bless us all.