The flower known as the fall-blooming anemone (in the header ^) hangs out right along the pathway to my front door.
This particular anemone blooms throughout August* and, for the past five years, has helped me transition from late summer to early fall.
I moved into this home when I was teaching at a year-round early childhood program. Even though it was open year-round, September was still the official beginning of the school year, with new classroom set-ups, new families, new-ness bursting from the seams of new school clothes. (Well, no, the new school clothes and shoes can sometimes be too big so maybe the new-ness is bursting from the clothes and shoes someone is growing out of? Anywho...)
These anemones greeted me and supported me as the new-ness rushed in.
The herd blooms in a slow cascade over the whole month. Yeah, I highly doubt they're called a 'herd' but it seems to resonate.
The welcoming of the anemones brings a sweet new-ness as my favorite season down-shifts and my least favorite season enters the scene.
Yes, over the past few years, I have been discovering the beautiful abundance of autumn but, for me, summer continues to be a challenging one to say goodbye to.
And so, I embrace the gift of these anemones, that I have re-named late-summer-blooming anemones. Unfolding beauty into endings.
In this embrace, I give myself the opportunity to witness other bloomings and decomposings surrounding me right now:
- a generative job that's coming to a close
- an adventure I'm about to depart on
- new and rekindled connections unfolding on the adventure
- new connections made on Twitter (yeah, the experiment is going well!)
- falling in love with being a new Foster.co contributor
The list is mostly made up of new-ness. Much of what is decomposing for me is challenging to put words to and tidy up into a list – elements of my identity, my day-to-day patterns, roles being let go of or reclaimed.
The inability to 'tidy it up' is the reality of transition.
All that's blooming hasn't yet all bloomed. All that's dying hasn't yet fully decomposed.
Sure, it's true that life is full of constant transition but it's also true that there are certain times that overflow with transition's presence.
For me, that time is now.
I'm curious when transition's presence overflows for you?
And what words you might give to it?
Or images, if words feel elusive?
Til next time,
Cassandra
*The exact blooming time depends on the particular plant variety, the fall-blooming anemone blooms somewhere between July and October.