"Autumn Mum" (Text & Image Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
This morning dawned gray, damp, and chilled after a night of steady rain. For the first time this season, the wee cottage in the woods asked for a touch of warmth, and I turned on the heat. Outside, a flock of geese honked their way across the sky, announcing autumn’s arrival more surely than any calendar could.
Though I stepped briefly outdoors to inhale the fresh, vibrant air of the morning, I chose the cozy comfort of indoors over my usual garden walk. The coffee mug at my side, however, remains a faithful companion—my ritual link between inner reflection and the world beyond the French door.
Through that door, my gaze falls on the new mum I placed on the porch just yesterday. Its cacophony of color sings against the muted gray of this morning, a chorus of oranges and reds defying the chill. Mums are a fall tradition here in the Northwoods—bright guardians at entryways, offering a warm welcome to all who pass. This one now greets me each morning, reminding me of how beauty can reverberate through even the gloomiest day.
As I sit with my coffee, gratitude rises unbidden. Gratitude for color, for life, for the chance to witness another turn of the seasons. Gratitude for the reminder that even one small bloom can shift the energy of an entire morning. I am one person, yes. Each of us is one person. But when we live with intention, our lives ripple outward, affecting others in ways unseen—an ever-widening circle of light.
Mother Teresa once said, “Love cannot remain by itself… it has no meaning. Love has to be put in action, and that action is service. Whatever form we are, able or disabled, rich or poor, it is not how much we do, but how much love we put in the doing; a lifelong sharing of love with others.”
From ancient prophets to present voices of wisdom, the call has always been the same: to embody the divine by serving this wonderful planet and all of its life. My faith is not in religions—I find too many of them tangled in corruption and cruelty. My faith is in this vast, mystical universe, endlessly expanding, endlessly creating. And so I believe we too are called to expand goodness—one deed, one step, one heartbeat at a time.
The mum on my porch teaches this truth. It does not lecture. It does not strive. It simply blooms, and in doing so, it brings warmth to the grayness of the day. May I, may we, do the same.
And so this day begins.
“Each small act of love is a spark—together they become a fire no darkness can extinguish.”
~Wylddane
Though I stepped briefly outdoors to inhale the fresh, vibrant air of the morning, I chose the cozy comfort of indoors over my usual garden walk. The coffee mug at my side, however, remains a faithful companion—my ritual link between inner reflection and the world beyond the French door.
Through that door, my gaze falls on the new mum I placed on the porch just yesterday. Its cacophony of color sings against the muted gray of this morning, a chorus of oranges and reds defying the chill. Mums are a fall tradition here in the Northwoods—bright guardians at entryways, offering a warm welcome to all who pass. This one now greets me each morning, reminding me of how beauty can reverberate through even the gloomiest day.
As I sit with my coffee, gratitude rises unbidden. Gratitude for color, for life, for the chance to witness another turn of the seasons. Gratitude for the reminder that even one small bloom can shift the energy of an entire morning. I am one person, yes. Each of us is one person. But when we live with intention, our lives ripple outward, affecting others in ways unseen—an ever-widening circle of light.
Mother Teresa once said, “Love cannot remain by itself… it has no meaning. Love has to be put in action, and that action is service. Whatever form we are, able or disabled, rich or poor, it is not how much we do, but how much love we put in the doing; a lifelong sharing of love with others.”
From ancient prophets to present voices of wisdom, the call has always been the same: to embody the divine by serving this wonderful planet and all of its life. My faith is not in religions—I find too many of them tangled in corruption and cruelty. My faith is in this vast, mystical universe, endlessly expanding, endlessly creating. And so I believe we too are called to expand goodness—one deed, one step, one heartbeat at a time.
The mum on my porch teaches this truth. It does not lecture. It does not strive. It simply blooms, and in doing so, it brings warmth to the grayness of the day. May I, may we, do the same.
And so this day begins.
“Each small act of love is a spark—together they become a fire no darkness can extinguish.”
~Wylddane
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