I awoke to a very cloudy/smoky morning, much worse than yesterday. Checking the air quality index, it is 11. It would be easy to go into my moody blues and stay there. I do not. Why? Because it doesn’t feel good. I don’t like suffering. I am feeling a little dumpy and lumpy. I am not jumping up and down with glee. I carry on the routine of the morning – mixing up dough for our Sunday sourdough pancakes. Too bad we don’t have any more bacon or breakfast sausages to go with them.

Now at 9 am, the sun is fighting its way through the smoke. It’s shine is a bit eery. It evokes a feeling that these are the last hours of our earth. Cheery, aren’t I? I am somewhat comforted by my walk through the greenhouse and garden. I love seeing the dangling bitter melons, hanging on by a thread. Mornings, the greenhouse is suffused with the sweet scent of their flowers. At long last, I see tiny baby cantaloups forming. I helped by hand pollination. I guess they still have time to grow, being in the greenhouse. Their mates are doing much better in the outside garden. They are almost ready to be picked.

It would be easy to be complacent, to sleep in with covers over my head, to not care. But it is just as easy to care, to get up, dress up and show up to life. It is never too late as I have learned through gardening. You might not get the best results but you do get something late as you are. Below is a photo of my bed of potatoes and beans sown in late July. We had harvested the garlic from it. Instead of just leaving it empty, I put in half a bed of beans and the other half in potatoes. The beans are flowering and the potato plants are big though not yet in blooms.

Writing this post was the easiest thing. I just sat down and my fingers talked. Nothing profound, just feelings of the moment – another Sunday morning coming down.