Pilgrimage: A Sacred Journey

By Paul Roberts

It’s looking like a lovely fall day as October begins here in Northern Idaho. We haven’t had a “brrr, it’s cold outside” morning yet, and things are still pretty green, but in anticipation of a frosty morning I brought the house plants inside last week. It’s a ritual I follow, a yearly pilgrimage that keeps me in touch with the Creator, Mother Nature and my muse during the year. 

The blueprints of this early 1970’s home (Carol and I enjoy having them, considerately left behind by the three previous owners of 7 Diamond Street) refer to this space where I sit and write each morning as “the sunroom.” On the east side of the house, the sunroom’s north, south, and east facing plate glass windows provide a year round view of our expansive backyard. Each spring, I chomp at the bit, waiting for Carol to give me the okay to take the house plants outside to their shelves on our covered patio. Once weather lady Carol tells me the spring frosts are behind us, outside they go. 

The plants and I giggle and titter as we imagine playing in the warm breezes and occasional sweltering heat of the summer months to come. They often thank me with some prodigious growth over the summer, reaching out almost past the eaves that protect them from the direct sunlight. They enjoy looking down from their patio perch at the flower beds below, watching throughout the summer as the brave clematis (It stays outside all winter!) weaves its way up towards them.

They were beginning to shiver a bit last week, as morning temps were dipping into the low forties and we experienced several days of rain. They could have stayed out a bit longer, maybe for another week or two, but once again I was chomping at the bit. I was ready for the pleasure of sitting in our sunroom, surrounded on three sides by my houseplant friends, so inside they came.

 There was a time several years ago when they only took up one window, but as I stop and count this morning, I realize I have added six shelves to this space over the last several years. This morning my houseplant friends are basking in the morning sun, and looking only slightly askance at the pears and grapes being infused in their liqueur jars that Carol has placed on one of their shelves. My plants are friendly types, and don’t mind sharing space too much.

I imagine their whispers, light and airy, calling out to me this morning as we sit together in our space: “Pilgrim Paul, thanks for caring for us while on our sacred journey!”

“The pleasure is mine,” I answer. “The pleasure is all mine.”

                                       *************************************************************

Have you connected with this beautiful season of autumn yet? Are there rituals of the season you can share with our community of creatives?

 To leave a comment on our blog, you can use Disqus.  It is easy to sign up.  You can use Google, Facebook, Twitter or your email.  There is no cost.  Just put in your name and email address and create a password.  Then confirm your account with the email they send you.  Then you can use Disqus to comment on the blog.  We would love to hear your thoughts.