Friday Ramble - Reflections

Here we stand in the dripping park at the beginning of the day, Spencer and I, as the usual November morning fog wraps itself around us in billows and swirls and nebulous clouds. Spencer is pottering along, reflecting happily on his first few months with us and thinking about fine rambles in the woods in Lanark when the present deer season has gone the way of all good and earthly things in a few weeks.

And me??? I was astonished and bemused to discover that tomorrow marks three full years of steady blogging here at Beyond the Fields We Know - three full years of logging on here every single day, posting a bad photo and nattering on for a few paragraphs. It boggles the mind, and I can't quite come to terms with my audacity in setting this place up, let alone doing the blogging thing faithfully for three years in a row.

I would like to redesign the header for this place and write a new template for it, but I am not contemplating any significant changes to this little corner of the blogging realm, and I expect Spencer and I will simply continue to meander along at our own pace, watching morning fogs enfold the village, bare trees swaying against the sky, and linden leaves raining dewdrops like honey in the park. My darling departed Cassie is always with us on our morning walks - we can hear her breathing and feel her rambling happily along beside us, but her dancing feet make no sound in the fallen leaves. The words that came to mind as we three went along through the fog this morning are from a much loved poem by the incandescently gifted Mary Oliver.


The years to come -- this is a promise --
will grant you ample time

to try the difficult steps in the empire of thought
where you seek for the shining proofs you think you must have.

But nothing you ever understand will be sweeter,
or more binding,
than this deep affinity between your eyes and the world.

Mary Oliver, Excerpt from Terns


Thank you for being here with me. You are more precious and wonderful than you can ever know.