Autumn in the gypsy camp

Early this morning, I decided to see what the day had for me out there...  I looked outside my window and was immediately enchanted.  There is a soft delicious harmony out there, a mystery swirling in the mellow atmosphere, a rustle in the Privet, a luster in the sky….

Our little white cottage is just starting to wake up to the new day… 

 It looks cozy and lovely hidden away it its foundation at the bottom of the hill...

The start of this new season provides a wonderful opportunity for you to renew… it always happen to me... I get this sense of wonder, a rush, a joyful anticipation… of what? Of something… something magical and wonderful about to happen… 

One thing is always sure if nothing else is… it's a time to discover which parts of yourself you'd like to embrace and expand upon, and which parts of your summer skin you'd like to shed, and everything I see and hear and feel is telling me that it is the perfect time to find my inner gypsy.  So I look in my closet and search for as many an array of patterns and colors I could find there...

I shall be dressed in my gypsy self… I shall I should!

Then I step outside…  all jeweled up in an arrange of layers and colorful goodness…

Just how I like it!  

Oh but it is too wet and too cold out here to be strolling the gardens in high heels...

So I run inside and get something more comfortable...

Fall is at the tip of my toes… 

Oh how I love thee, Autumn.  You’re that same old friend of a thousand years ago when you settled all over my garden in just the same way you do it today… bringing with you your magic, spells and incantations to pour all over my little world.

Ah, you fill my days with magic and stories of strange things... you transport me to places untold which I’d never seen, and yet… how often have I been there… who draws the curtains? Who is it... that does all these things?

The world will always need a drop of magic in its vast ocean, doesn't it...  Oh yes, without it, without imagination whirling all around you, life is but an empty cup. 

Don't you just love Autumn!

I do I do I do!

Collecting some precious treasures with a joyful heart…

wanting to embrace every bit of the day in your heart.  

Soaking it in, to fulfill your soul…

dancing in a swirling of falling leaves,

singing with the birds with open arms…

Nature’s peace flowing into you.

Thank you for stopping by my friend, hope you go out and enjoy your day!

The gypsy room

Autumn has not shown its full-true face around here yet, but days have that sleepy, golden look they get just before summer slips over the edge of the world.  I am excitedly waiting for those magical October days.  In the mean time, I'll keep my watch from the comfort of my own little gypsy room...

wishing, dreaming 

and hoping and thinking 

and dreaming... dreaming each night with Autumn's charms..

To Gayla

A gift.... 

from my dear friend Gayla

It cannot express the secret song of my heart any better

or any lovelier...

Thank you my friend!

The mystical bird

The little gypsy girl thinks that the sun is a blazing bird, and that the bird has moved inside her body…

The sun-bird builds her nest in the wilderness that, like the bird itself, lives inside the little gypsy girl's body—dreams, skills and aptitudes gifted to her through generation of gypsy ancestors…

The bird stirs inside her body trapped in summer heat waves...  Feathers aflame, a flap of feverish wings... the little gypsy girl quivers.  Though closer still blinds and gypsy veils she pull to keep her colorful gypsy tent cool, the bird agitates, burning everything in a rumpus of wings...

Heat and humidity exhaust her.. evaporation is slowed, her body must work extra hard to maintain normal temperature… 

The little gypsy girl seeks the rains and bathes in morning dew trying to calm the burning bird inside her body, but the bird empowers its will… precious peace dilutes in empty songs through ring embellished fingers.  This is always, and forever, August in the South.  The little gypsy girl is not used to it.

She must fleet to the mountain without delay… it is essential that she moved quickly.  And thus, she readies herself… spilling skirts, colorful scarves covering her mane… her pink box overflowing with this and that… 

 

 Necessities she must carry at all times with her…

Some favorite books, her computer, a garment or two…

So down the gypsy paths she goes, seeking the cool breezes of higher grounds…

She is taking the old gypsy wagon with her... a song, a poem, her beau...

Discovering new trails, through untraveled roads…

They finally found the perfect spot...

Take out the chairs...

Park the gypsy trailer under the trees...

Fishing poles and fuzzy worms… her beau is right at home!

She embellishes her boudoir...

With gypsy candles and tea lights.

 She had traded the old velvet curtains for some lace…

  

White to ease the heat of summer…

But the little gypsy girl is still burning... the sun-bird inside her laughs! 

She must go to the waters...

Forget her gypsy skirts

Be free

Let her spirit soar…

She studies the skies above her head… 

And she prays and wishes and hopes.

And for a strange little moment

gentle cool breezes blew across their camp

whispering winds swayed shaggy trees...

The bird... the phoenix inside the little gypsy girl 

flew away...

Hope you all are doing well

Sending you some magic breezes your way...