11.17.2025 | Ordinary Monday

Gathered and Remembered
 
“Even the leaves, once fallen, find purpose again.”
 
It’s that time of year again in the Carondelet Garden. We gather fallen leaves from in and around the beds, rake them up, mow them over, and pile them into the compost cube to rest for the year ahead.
 
Through the quiet magic of fungal action—helped along by a bit of moisture, those leaves slowly transform into a rich, earthy concoction known as leaf mould. It’s one of nature’s finest gifts to the garden. With most of the leaves now down, this task should be wrapped up today.
 
The Garden is nearly tucked into its Winter mode. It’s the second half of November, and the forecast echoes what we already feel in our bones: winter is just around the corner. A gentle reminder to stock up on birdseed—watching the birds flit in and out of the feeders is one of my favorite seasonal joys.
 
We’re also deep in Thanksgiving preparations: planning menus, baking, shopping for ingredients, and readying ourselves for the big day. But it’s not just about the feast. It’s also a time of remembering. There are a few more empty chairs this year—some long gone, others more recent. We remember. We tell stories. We share a bit of Jameson Irish Whiskey. We laugh. Sometimes we cry. They’re not truly gone. They live on in our hearts, and we will see them again. For now, we give thanks for their memory and their love.
 
Thanksgiving, indeed.
 
“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.”
— Isaiah 40:8