Grey skies. Another rainy day. A chill in the air. I go up to my garden. Where there had been a jumble of the bright pure colors of my daylilies, now only a few late blooms. Each one more precious by its solitude-- poignant in its last colors. Gone are the extravagant ruffles and patterns of the summer. Now there are the subtle soft hues of the simple flowers. Little hints of edges. Colors complex only as they echo the sun lessening in its warmth. Colors made even softer by the gentle mist falling.
The throats a soft yellow. The ribs a hint of white.
Almost a quiet cry of the season passing.
The first maples turning against the green. Precursors of October.
The weather, the change of the seasons echo my mood. My heart is aching. I have learned of the unbearable loss of one too young, too talented, with too much promise. Gone. Suddenly. Not one I knew as well as some--but one cherished by those whom I cherish most. To his family an incomprehensible, unspeakable tragedy. To the community and all who knew him devastating.
I cannot wrap my mind around this. Stunned and silent, I go outside and tear wild grapes strangling trees in the woods. I pull grass from the iris beds. Never have they been so clean and tidy. There is purpose and anger in my actions.
At The Textile Co. only the muted colors of autumn intrique me. Soft complex colors of memory and sorrow. The greens of longing. Dark purples and greys, mauve and soft salmon. These are the colors that speak to me. The quilt I must make.
Soon the sun will return with the lush greens of September, the brilliant reds and oranges, golds and purples of October. Crisp clear days. Then pure white snow. I will remember the smile. The twinkle in his eyes. The sense of adventure and sureness. But not yet.
Rest in peace oh absent one. You will be missed.