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| The Mystery within... |
I experience fall as a season of mystery. The air has a melancholy feel and
scent. Some life will soon slip into dormancy and wait for spring. Much of what sprouted in spring and
grew through the summer has matured and is preparing for death. I am reminded of my own mortality and
the day to come when I find out what happens to this energy that is me, and
will finally know what it’s all about.
Though I love fall best, right now I am preparing for the season to
come, the one of introspection and the hibernating bear. I put away my flowered summer quilt and
put the red and beige plaid winter comforter on my bed. I hauled up storm windows from the
basement, standing them up one step at time, and wondered if next year will I
have the strength and balance to do it again? And a necessary major window replacement is happening in my
living room this week for which I am staining and varnishing the surrounding
woodwork, along with redoing other timeworn windowsills. I find it hard to believe that I once
had the stamina to finish all the woodwork in my house forty years ago. A lot of seasons have since gone
by.
I feel blessed to live where there are four distinct seasons
and look forward to living in the rhythm of each one, and then transitioning to
what comes next. But I can
sometimes get tired of winter’s cold, spring’s dampness, and summer’s heat, but
I don’t think I could ever get tired of fall. Its colors are so warm and the air so invigorating. It makes me feel earthy. I remember some past unforgettable fall
scenes, one going way back before children, when I walked with my late husband
on a sunny day at the edge of a dark wood. There, white birch stood at the edge of the darkness while
their sun bright yellow leaves floated lazily to the ground. I watched in silent awe. And then there was that perfect autumn
bike ride when falling leaves, back dropped against tall pines, fluttered,
floated and then dipped to the ground.
Watching them tumble, glide and then tumble again made my tummy tickle. Being present to each season brings
depth to my life, and the deepest occurs in fall.
What if we could all love a season to depth? What’s your favorite season?
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