Plump days of autumn

Whether viewing the distant rotund shapes of the hill side casuarina trees first planted fifteen years ago, or, more closely in hand, the last plump ripe Black Russian tomato of this year’s garden, I cannot but feel overwhelmed by the succulent goodness present everywhere during these days of autumn.

When the sun moves lower in the sky and drops its soft light upon slightly pungent soil moist from a passing squall, who needs iPhones or iPads with 100 apps to feel connected to the world?

Everywhere I look there is something to download; to ground my well being and, thereby, allowing it to soar among the clouds. And it is all free. More than that, it is pure gold freely given.

This is where the sacred brush of Eros paints the landscape to feed our souls all the nourishment they need.

Dangle a tress from your disheveled curls
and you’ll evict the monks from their monasteries.

Ruzbihan Baqli — 12th century Sufi poet