I want to dive into the warmth of this season. Tonight we will be having squash soup for dinner. I am using the sturdiest knife our kitchen has and still I worry it will break as I struggle to cut into the tough, dark green skin. Skin is too delicate a word. It’s more like cutting into the hide of a rhinoceros and a few times my knife gets stuck. The gourd eventually gives itself over to the knife and my eyes are gently greeted by its inner deep, rich orange flesh. The seeds are sturdy and plump. Finn and I will clean and roast these later and, as a family, we will undoubtedly devour them. I coat the squash with olive oil, dust it with salt, and place it in the warm oven to roast.
I am starting this soup. Kendall will be home soon and he and Finn will finish it as I go on a walk. We will come together to eat dinner and enjoy each others company. We will come together to rest and play.
Our days are increasingly marked with routine, order, and peace. I am becoming acquainted with the rhythm that is emerging from this sweet place, often reminding myself of it, and encouraging my heart to find rest in it. The rhythm is a dance between each of us as we come together and move through our day. We are stepping on toes less. We are dancing with soul.