Morning Musings

I sit pensively at the breakfast table, watching the moody clouds that wrap the Cawston hills and the slight change of colour as the sun rises through them, wondering if they will develop into a fiery October sunrise or if the light will just fade back to gloomy grey.

Wondering if I dare have a second cup of coffee!

Fingering the Wallace Stegner book that I itch to open - last night I finished

'Crossing into Safety' and now I have this delightful title to tease my impatience 

'When the Bluebird sings to the Lemonade Springs'

I set it aside regretfully.

It is a busy day.

While the sun still shone yesterday I poked around in the garden and then picked armsful 

of asters and sedum and chrysanthemums, a few late shasta daisies

and some of the late roses to take to the church early this morning.

The ladies of the Altar Guild will brighten the church with these lovely symbols

of Thanksgiving.  Apples and grapes, turnips, cornstalks (if anyone is

willing to clean up after them) a cabbage or two and lots of squash and gourds.

If we were on the prairies there would be wheat, but these are the fruits of

 our orchards and vineyards and gardens.

The sky is not going to produce anything spectacular this morning and so I rise, step out onto the deck and snap the light on the clouds before I go to gather the flowers into the SUV.

As I pass the piano I pause for a quick run through of the prelude I have been hoping

to play for the Thanksgiving Service, but alas, it is definitely not 

up to scratch and so (ever the optimist) God willing I will plan on using it next Thanksgiving

and resort to variations on the old familiar hymns that comfort our

aging parishioners - 'Come Ye Thankful People Come' We Plough the Fields and Scatter'

and 'For the Beauty of the Earth'.

Love and Blessing at Harvest Time to all whose hearts are full of thanks,
whether to a Creator or to Blind Chance