Well, the November rains have arrived, and with them, the fragrance of foliage and the earth, and a wondrous fabric of leaves that is developing on the ground plane. I managed to get out for two short walks in my neighborhood this weekend and it became all too apparent to me that "house / car / city office / car / house / car / city office" is a sure recipe for nature deprivation. Interestingly, it was my olfactory sense that drove home the point that here, in my neighborhood, I was surrounded by vegetation and soil that was actually alive and dynamic, and that I was a part of this web of life. Nothing too profound here, mind you; it's just that it occurred to me while walking and taking in the fragrance, that during the dry summer, this fragrance of the earth, so characteristic of the Pacific Northwest, is virtually non-existent, unless one is in the woods, or better yet, deep in the forest. And of course, it's non-existent year around in the immediate vicinity of my office downtown. And therefore, similarly to "out of sight/out of mind," if one cannot smell the earth, one can lose track of just how long it has been since one has been out in a meadow, or a forest, or even in one's own neighborhood, taking it all in.
Hope you're not in a state of nature deprivation. :)
Oh, and along this line, if you haven't already done so, pay a visit to Jennifer Judd-McGee's Swallowfield and take in Sophie Windsor Clive's short, beautiful video of the natural phenomenon of starling "murmurations." And then scroll down to see Jennifer's holiday card and recent collages, before heading over to Novembergrass to see Sue's beautiful "murmuration" of stitches on her most recent work.
Have a great week!