Every morning I follow the path to the park, Beaumont the Sheepadoodle in the lead, eager to reach the area where he can run off leash.
For the past two weeks I have been taking a different path. We walk up the hill to the escarpment and walk along the ridge overlooking the Bow River winding its way through the valley bottom below.
The fall colours have been breath-taking.
Golds and rust and bright yellows compete with the still green leaves clinging to the last vestiges of summer.
Every morning I follow the path knowing eventually, it will lead me home again.
There is comfort in that knowing. Comfort in its familiarity and predictability.
This morning, Beaumont and I chose to walk the path along the river, forgoing the steep uphill climb to the escarpment.
Winding our way through the woods, listening to the dry, fallen leaves crunch beneath our feet and the water lazily babble its way to the east, the muse drifted in and settled in for a visit like a good friend coming for tea.
Words and images, thoughts and ideas scampered through my mind like dry leaves being lifted and scattered by an autumn breeze.
Sometimes I followed their drift. Sometimes I simply nodded in recognition of their presence and let them drift out of my mind’s eye.
Always, I knew they were leading me home. To my heart. My hearth.
I walked the path I haven’t taken in awhile this morning.
I walked with the knowing, the path lead me where it always does. Into beauty, wonder and awe.
Namaste
Nice! Will send pics from the cottage in the Middle Kingdom.
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Oh goodie! Say hello!
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I liked this
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I like you! β€
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Thank you Louise, for sharing your wondrous walk … your lovely words have brightened up my day … ππ€π
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What a lovely thing to know my words have done! Thank you Ivor. β€
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ππππ€
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Beautiful! Words and photos! π
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Thank you my friend. β€
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β€οΈ
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It felt magical to come along on your walk with your words leading on to it. It felt comforting to be reminded of being led to the warmth of home at the end of it. Such peace I felt with your post.
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Thank you Pragalbha. I love this time of year – both its reminders of the cycles of life and its promises of new beginnings to come, and in between, winter’s embrace blanketing the earth as it rests. β€
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Such a lovely sojourn, Louise. Those gorgeous fall photos make me ache for autumn in New Englandβ¦π₯
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Ahhhh… New England falls are glorious. We don’t get the bright red of Maple trees here. Our winter chinooks with their warm winds are too much for the roots of maples to handle — they fool them into thinking it’s spring many times during the winter!
thank you! β€
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a beautiful walk! Also I notice that your autumn is already far more advanced than ours…. You have such long winters and short summers (also I quickly point out that we didn’t have A
Summer this year! – to make you feel better if I gave you a moment of sadness!).
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It is a beautiful walk Kiki — and yup! Our autumn is almost done. The first gold leaves usually begin to appear in late August! And if we get any wind… well it goes in a day. It’s lasting longer this year — which is quite lovely — and tee hee! I’m sorry you didn’t have any summer — I do hope your fall goes on and on! β€
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Beautiful!
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It is truly a gift to live and walk and create along the river.
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Beautiful! He looks so happy!
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thanks David — it’s his nature. To just be happy! πΏπππΏ Happy Canadian Thanksgiving!
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