Fall afternoon light and remembrance

On a day of clear blue skies, the mountain ridges are sharp-edged and the last remaining yellows and reds of the fall leaves reflect the waning afternoon light with a glint.

Looking for other reflections on afternoon light, I came across this piece, written nine years ago as a post in Natural Gardening.  It would have been the first Thanksgiving that we'd spent in our house in the mountains. We spent more Thanksgivings here before we moved here full-time in 2015, as well as weekends and summers.  In the last couple of years, we've also stayed through the entire holiday season before heading off traveling, enjoying some of the local traditions of music and festivities, without the constraints of academic winter break dictating when we can be away.

I'm reminded, too, that our house feels so much more "ours" now - with my studio space, an expanded deck, and a welcoming kitchen with warm-colored cherry hues instead of the former recycled black warehouse shelves from  the previous owner.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009  (Natural Gardening)

An evening view 

I'm grateful for our blessings on this eve of Thanksgiving.

Today was a beautiful warm fall day in the mountains of North Carolina, and the light at the end of day, reflected from the sunset, illuminated the view into the ravine behind our house in the mountains. Designed by a local architectural designer for his personal home, it's an 'ecohouse,' small and spare in design, with radiant floor heat, instant-on gas hot water, Icynene insulation, and recycled materials, including using wood from the site (an empty lot overgrown with black cherry, tulip poplar and white pine).

This is a legacy house for us - our moms, now gone, are part of this place and they'll be part of our thanks tomorrow for Thanksgiving along with all of the memories that they provided for us.

My mom, a great traveler, will be remembered, too, as we travel during winter break, as will my gardening companion's (aka my husband's) dad, who was also a keen traveler. They inspired us to step up our traveling as we were reminded by their loss that life can be shorter, rather than longer, and if not now, when.

Traveling has enriched our lives, work, and understanding of what it means to live in the world and we're grateful that we have the opportunity to do that.