“A neighborhood. At dusk.

Things are getting ready to happen

out of sight. Stars and moths.

And rinds slanting around fruit.

But not yet.

One tree is black.

One window is yellow as butter.

A woman leans down to catch a child who has run into her arms

this moment. Stars rise.

Moths flutter.

Apples sweeten in the dark.”

~ Eavan Boland,

“This Moment”

October strolls in with crisp mornings, dew drip-drip-dripping off the metal porch roof, singing down into a blue watering can perched below. I clasp hands close around a steaming coffee mug, with a patch of sun and a rocking chair.

River Dog (smarter than me, perhaps) snuggles a bit longer in bed on chilly morns. Pikachu is up and at ‘em when I head downstairs for a sweat jacket. The Poacher’s been known to demand breakfast if I’m slow about serving it!

This year, there are days when I feel like pulling the blanket over my head, keeping the outside world away. Every day it seems like something worse happens, something more explosive than the last. We all have ways to cope beyond hiding under the covers; what I do is get up, savor that beloved steaming cup of hot coffee, soak up morning light, hold a sick friend’s hand and tell her it WILL be OK. Whatever happens, it will be OK.

I rub River’s little-round-velvety-bear ears with all the love in the world, while he’s here, and say thank you, thank you, for one more day.  I go out and pick late-blooming roses and bright zinnias for glass bottles, leave a good book somewhere where it beckons for a lazy fall afternoon spent with leaves drifting and blue sky. It will be OK.

There’s a blue bowl of bright green okra in the kitchen a friend gave me from their garden, a reminder of the goodness of earth and a sharing heart. I climb in The Turtle and pat the steering wheel when the old truck roars to life one more time, thanking the friends who gave me the truck when my VW spent extended vacation time in repair shops. Now that’s love, folks — these things that knit us together. Small things that matter, holding one another’s hands along the way—it will be OK. That’s how we get up in cold mornings of this life, aware that in loving each other and those small tender things, that’s how we make it out from under the blanket.

Saluda Tailgate Market is open on Fridays from 4:30-6:30 p.m. at the city parking lot off Main Street.

Saluda Community Land Trust (SCLT) will have a Walk in the Woods to the Waters of Camp Creek, Oct. 15. Meet at 2 p.m., Saluda Library parking lot to carpool. For information on hikes, contact Chuck Hearon at 828-817-0364 or chearon@skyrunner.net Contact SCLT at 828-749-1560 or visit www.saludasclt.org. 

Social Singles (singles over 40) potluck dinner is Oct. 12 at 5 p.m. at Saluda Center.

Saluda Living in Place (SLIP) (aimed at helping seniors stay in their homes as they age) will sponsor free health screenings, refreshments, and information from different agencies on Oct. 19 from 8 a.m. – 12 p.m. at Saluda Fire Department on Greenville Street. For information or if you need transportation, contact Edie Campbell at 828-243-0734 or becampbell@charter.net by Oct. 9.

The Free Clinics (TFC) provides healthcare for uninsured, low-income clients in Henderson/Polk counties. There’ll be a reception with refreshments served on Oct. 8, from 4-6 p.m. at Saluda Center, 64 Greenville Street to update guests on TFC’s services and programs that serve Polk County residents. This is hosted by TFC staff and local residents Reeda Ward along with Pat and Ward Sandahl.

Saluda Historic Depot is located at 32 West Main Street. Saluda Train Tales are held on the third Friday each month at 7 p.m. through October. The next one will be Oct. 20 at 7 p.m. with Ray Rapp.

There’ll be a Candidates Forum at Saluda Center on October 25, 6 p.m.

Thank you, dear readers, for reading this column. You can contact me at bbardos@gmail.com, 828-749-1153, or bonniebardosart.com.