I’m a bit at a loss without photos to remind me of my latest garden encounters, but it forces me to appreciate them more in the moment.

Also, looking back at photos from a year ago reminds me that things weren’t all that different this time of year, much the same flowers were still blooming, aside from some new additions; but also that I’ve worked hard to improve upon or make better use of our surroundings.  It’s hard to tell, this time of year, until all the changes debut in spring.  It’s always a continuous process.

By fall, I can determine which parts of the garden need help or a change of usage.  Soil has been exhausted and won’t grow certain plants without serious first aid or a vacation.  Areas have become shadier, or need to expand into the sun.  It becomes clear where more trees could be planted.  Some locations suggest a whole new, improved approach.  The garden informs you if you pay attention, and directs you how to assist.  There’s a method to its seeming madness.

I’ve learned to really appreciate fall here in Missouri.  It’s like the converse of spring, only longer.  You just want to stay outside and observe and soak it all in.

It’s also a stark reminder (to me, at least) that not all people here are as privileged as we are to enjoy such surroundings, or even a roof over their heads.  Indeed, just that statement alone is classic white privilege.

If you pay attention, the wind rustling the trees of suburbia is full of the cries of ghosts of nations and tribes who were murdered or enslaved by white savages in their unholy mission to crush the earth.  They cry out for retribution and justice.

This is the same earth, only more uncivilized and devastated than ever.  Some desecration can never be excused away.  If we don’t start the healing and restitution ourselves, the earth itself will avenge itself on us.  I really believe that.

Vote.  It’s a start.