Poem for Wednesday and Swans Trail Animals

In Heaven It Is Always Autumn
By Elizabeth Spires

"In Heaven It Is Always Autumn"
—John Donne

In heaven it is always autumn. The leaves are always near
to falling there but never fall, and pairs of souls out walking
heaven's path no longer feel the weight of hears upon them.
Safe in heaven's calm, they take each other's arm,
the light shining through them, all joy and terror gone.
But we are far from heaven here, in a garden ragged and unkept
as Eden would be with the walls knocked down, the paths littered
with the unswept leaves of many years, bright keepsakes
for children of the Fall. The light is gold, the sun pulling
the long shadow soul out of each thing, disclosing an outcome.
The last roses of the year nod their frail heads,
like listeners listening to all that's said, to ask,
What brought us here? What seed? What rain? What light?
What forced us upward through dark earth? What made us bloom?
What wind shall take us soon, sweeping the garden bare?
Their voiceless voices hang there, as ours might,
if we were roses, too. Their beds are blanketed with leaves,
tended by an absent gardener whose life is elsewhere.
It is the last of many last days. Is it enough?
To rest in this moment? To turn our faces to the sun?
To watch the lineaments of a world passing?
To feel the metal of a black iron chair, cool and eternal,
press against our skin? To apprehend a chill as clouds
pass overhead, turning us to shivering shade and shadow?
And then to be restored, small miracle, the sun shining brightly
as before? We go on, you leading the way, a figure
leaning on a cane that leaves its mark on the earth.
My friend, you have led me farther than I have ever been.
To a garden in autumn. To a heaven of impermanence
where the final falling off is slow, a slow and radiant happening.
The light is gold. And while we're here, I think it must be heaven.

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Autumn has arrived in the Seattle area -- we have had several days in a row of significant rain and the leaves are starting to turn in earnest. I had a fun Wednesday anyway, since I got to talk to my high school friends in the morning and watch the first third of Avengers: Endgame with in the afternoon around various chores. It was only drizzling by late afternoon when we walked to the beach and out on the dock, where the ducks seemed unfazed by the rain. 

We caught up on Ahsoka (which was great, nostalgic and sharp) with after the Orioles victory, and the Mariners game started to go in unpleasant directions (just as it ended -- well, we have tickets for tomorrow night and now that will be exciting and highly relevant). So we watched the first competitive episode this season of The Masked Singer, then last night's Only Murders in the Building. Here are some of the animals we met in Snohomish last weekend at Swans Trail Farms: