The Silence of the Autumn


Silence, stillness, a feeling of awaiting for something; nature is ready to welcome the winter season. Before returning to Aurora, I heard from Claudian the first “brumă” happened. That means that during the nights the temperature dropped under minus 0 degrees – ensuing, from now on, lots of thoughtfulness on behalf of the harvesters.

So today I checked the three walnuts at the margins of the property and realized that there are still plenty of nuts to pick up. Except now it’s all hidden under the thick layer of dried leaves as most of the trees and plants responded to the first wave of “brumă” by fainting substantially. The landscape changed so much since I left the place – in a matter of days seasons have simply passed the torch one to another.

Feeling all of these makes me profusely grateful to be here now. All potential torments go away when I’m here where I am, when I am with my full being. Rusty coloured trees are looking at me from the other hill and I smile back at them. Birds are singing discretely and little mice that dwell inside the walls of the house are running at my back, carefree of any cat or human. It’s already afternoon and sun is no longer to be seen, only horizontal ethereal clouds are draping the sky. Some drops of rain? Perhaps. Or maybe just the sound of dried leaves in the almost imperceptible wind.

While I’m relishing a small cup of cinnamon coffee, my thoughts cast on the next step to do – kind of unpleasant but utterly necessary: cleaning up the basement to make room for apples, walnuts, potatoes and the already many jars of jam piled up in the meditation room. The first thing is to get rid of the last year’s potatoes by carrying it with the wheelbarell somewhere in a slope. I soon realise their rotten stench is part of the job. In a couple of hours I manage to dispose maybe three quarters of the pile and put aside the small new born ones. The rest is to be done tomorrow with Claudian as my lower back sends sheer signals of tiredness.

It’s getting late and I’m getting hungry. A visit into the garden will do it. To my great surprise the invasive plant that use to cover most of the beds is nowhere to be seen right now (I eventually find out from Gabi that it was indeed edible!). It’s all dried and so are the tall sunflowers that made you duck down when walking along the paths. Despite this sudden clearance, vegetables are still available to our stomachs: I pick up a few red cabbage leaves, tiny broccoli, some redeemed spinach and sage leaves for tea. What a feast! The menu turned out to be mashed potatoes with mustard, sautéed vegetables (peppers, onion and tomatoes) and a lively green salad with carrot and onion. Yummy, thank you for the warm welcome Aurora!


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