Thursday, October 13, 2011

The Fires of Autumn

Cool evenings, a nip in the air. My child blowing to check if he can see his breath. Leaves swirling and circling down from the trees. Autumn, it seems, has finally decided to make an appearance.

But I knew that already, and without even checking the weather channel or the calendar. The world around me feels autumnal right now: things blazing in a last burst, things falling, things dying. It’s that period before the stillness that marks winter sets in, and long before new possibilities emerge with the coming of spring. In autumn we see the beauty but know that it is fleeting, destined to wither and die so very soon. And like trees shedding their leaves, we must let go of what has given us fullness.

Elements of my life, and the lives of those around me, are drawing to a close at the moment, elements that we have liked or loved, celebrated, struggled with, watched with amazement or bewilderment. And now our task is to be witnesses to their final blazes, whether those be blazes of glory and beauty or blazes of rage and pain, as they move onward to their inevitable end.

Take a deep breath and let it all go. Autumn is here.