September Grass

Go ahead, if you us geeks or nerds. But yes, this is us (Alice and I) doing our weekly lawn mowing, edging, weed-whacking, clipping, trimming, power blowing and yard waste-binning. Whenever we do our yard work we don our protective eyewear and sun hats and workboots. Dweebs we may be, but health by way of safety we treasure.

But I include our picture so that you can see the visual beauty behind us: notice the sun dazzling the Spanish moss like laundry draped on the oak tree?

Each September I like to do yardwork with James Taylor in my ear, specifically his song called "September Grass."

The first stanza evokes a feeling of change in the air and then the song harkens back to the sweetness of summers past.

Well, the sun's not so hot in the sky today
and you know I can see summertime slipping on away.
A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red,
but the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed.

Beautiful words, no? How do artists do it- generating songs, scripts, sketches, stories and so many other creative expressions... and then do it again and again?

They notice. They pay attention. They take the time to see/hear/write what others can't or won't or are too distracted to observe. In short, they are MINDFUL.

If you feel that the concept of mindfulness is appealing to you, or you desire to deepen what you know of it or practice, you're in luck. On Wednesday, September 16th at 7 pm I'll be giving a webinar called "The ABCs of Mindful Living." You can register by clicking this link.

As James Taylor writes, "Oh, September grass is the sweetest kind, it goes down easy like apple wine. Hope you don't mind if I pour you some, made that much sweeter by the winter to come."

May the end of your summer be sweet and may those who know you be inspired by the artful expression of your life.