an offering of rosemary
lessons from outside my window
“Rosemary is the smell of déjà vu and the after-breath of nostalgia. Her gift is the faint scent that teases and vanishes, leaving you longing for something you can’t quite name, and with memories that crest and crash, pulling you gasping into their undertow.”
-Maia Toll
I’ve been quiet this season. Taking notice of my surroundings. How the shift in my environment alters my state of perspective. I cannot help but learn from the fallen leaves who make a home at the foot of their mother. How their disappearing body doesn’t leave the earth. Rather, it changes matter. Carves out space for something new to emerge.
When I think about my own mortality, I begin to unravel with anxiety but seeing how the world dances with the cycles of life and death eases my heart a bit. It grounds me. Reminds me to be grateful for each day. To connect with my environment. Embrace my loved ones; both those who I can physically gather with and those who have passed on, but live vibrantly in my memory.
This morning I stepped outside to greet the aromatic rosemary planted in the garden by the doorstep. In many cultures, families plant rosemary in front of their house or hang a bundle of the herb over their doorway to protect their household from harm. Recently, I learned that some Polish brides have been known to wear wreaths of rosemary in their hair during their wedding day. Afterwards, the wreath is carefully stored and saved to use during the first bath of their newborn baby. How beautiful it could have been to wear rosemary in my hair on the day I married Nick in the Colorado mountains. To transport it carefully from house to house. To baptize our baby with the fragrant aroma of our love and protection.
Yesterday, our daughter turned seven months old. Becoming her mother has allowed me to better understand the lessons outside of my window. To feel a kinship with the maple who sheds her leaves in order to feed the sapling growing beneath her roots. To appreciate rosemary’s resilience and take cues from her ability to flower in even the most difficult circumstances. To welcome in the growing night and see it as an opportunity for introspection.
To remember the sweetness of these fleeting days.
♡ Autumn
The Diana Tarot by artist Jennifer May Reiland. I love how she told the story of Princess Diana through the tarot. Its such a beautifully illustrated deck and has been inspiring me while I work on my own personal tarot project!
I’m currently enrolled in Poetry Forge’s Other Doors revision class. I really admire Holly Wren Spaulding, my teacher and the founder of Poetry Forge. She has written some of my favorite poems and has created the most gentle and supportive writing community I have ever come across.
All of Phoebe Wahl’s children books. They’re filled with whimsical illustrations, rooted in nature and tell the most tender stories. I own all of her books and read at least one of them to Ella every day. I especially love Little Witch Hazel.
The voice and words of Adrianne Lenker. Especially “Anything.”
The Hudson Valley during this beautiful season. I am beyond grateful to call this place home.
Maples and rosemary are my kind of friends 💛 I so enjoy reading about kinship of the nonhuman variety. And I appreciate how our little ones help us connect and reconnect in brilliantly unexpected ways (at least that's how it feels to me).