Somewhere Between Earth and Sky

It's very mild today, overcast and foggy. I love fall days like this, when the ceiling of the world hangs low and close. It's so cozy yet mysterious. The bare tree branches etch secret runes in the mist. The scent of fallen leaves rises up off the damp earth, spicy and warm.

I finish work early on Tuesdays. I'll go home just long enough to change into garden clothes, slip on my boots, stick an apple in my pocket and then head to the garden on my bike, as the crow flies. Literally. The area of the city I live in is home to thousands of crows and the flight path they take to roost at night is very similar to the route I take to the garden. Through my quiet neighbourhood streets, across the busy road that ends at the river, down the alley that's dark and cool and green all summer, past the old farmhouse (one of the earliest homes in the history of Ottawa), along the hedge path with hawthorn, rowan and sumac, skirting the cricket field by the hospital, through the goldenrod field and I'm there.

I'm pain free today and my hands and wrists feel strong. I can grow and make and build and create this rich life I call my own. And today will be all about going deep. I'll reach into the ground to harvest more chicory, dandelion and sour dock root. It will be a good day for getting my hands dirty, and earth under my nails. And when dusk falls I'll head home, maybe as the crows pass me overhead, as the lights come on in the houses where I follow my path, somewhere between earth and sky.





Update: I can't find the primary source for the beautiful image above, but I found it on this site here. Dear artist, whoever you are, your image is awesome and I hope you don't mind me using it in my post.