Day 134 of 365
Fall has always been my favorite season. Is it everyone’s favorite season?
There are so many reasons I love the Fall. It’s the colors and the foods. I love harvest. Apples have my whole heart. And, oh my gosh, I adore Halloween. I grew up in a place without a real Fall season, and I am so grateful to Maine for giving me a magnificent Fall, the kind I used to see in the movies and read about in books, every single year.
This Fall, like last year, however, has been marked by some major loss, and so I feel some heaviness in my heart–this kind of haze of melancholy, I am trying to fight through. But I have to remember the cycles of life, and what bigger reminder is there than the leaves on the trees, turning their beautiful reds and oranges, giving us such a show before the trees withdraw into themselves and rest?
It’s hard right now though. The loss of my kitty, Sophie, is still so raw, and losing her has been a huge reminder to me that I have been grieving still the loss of our farm dog, Gus, last Fall. That one was sudden and shocking, and the physicality of my grief for him took a strange kind of toll. I have always been able to be a positive person, but, sometimes, it just feels like I love so big that I am doomed to a life of grief and loss. Love is joy, and love is pain. I don’t want the pain to change me. Still, I feel some change. Maybe, though, it’s just temporary. Maybe I just need to retreat into myself for a winter and rest and heal, and I will be like the trees and be renewed in the Spring.
But I cannot retreat yet, though I have the urge. This weekend, we are going to debut Farmer-ish at the Common Ground Fair. The Common Ground Fair is a massive agricultural and educational fair, and people come from all over the country–and even the world–for it. I am truly overwhelmed by all of it, but the print annual is a really good work. The authors are diverse and wonderful and have so many important things to say. I am thankful for all of the beautiful poetry in this year’s annual. And though I never get to write the beautiful essay that will change hearts and minds that I imagine I would like to, I am proud of the short pieces I wrote for this year’s annual. I wrote about a cool barn with a musical history, spoon butter, duck eggs, and some of my favorite books. How fun is that?
I feel uplifted when I think about it. I’m going to need that, I think. Tomorrow is set up, and then, after that, it’s game on. For three days, from morning until evening, I am going to have to put my brave face on, beat back that insecurity, and and share Farmer-ish with the world. This is, hopefully, going to be a great weekend for us. I recently saw there is another journal coming out in 2023 with almost the exact same focus as Farmer-ish. I am not even exaggerating. They even quoted Thoreau. I have to get this journal out there before we are lost in the crowd.
If you are reading this and in Maine, come see us this weekend. If you are reading this and are not in Maine, please send us all the good vibes. Before I can retreat and heal, I have be the bravest I have ever been in my life. Please, oh please, let this Fall Equinox be the start of something really great for our journal and our family.
And, until then, I am going to remember the cycles of life, remember to focus growth, and remember to be thankful. Today, it’s raining, and after a summer of drought, I am grateful to every puddle of water I see on the ground.