Friday, October 26, 2012

Autumn's Promise

 Fall has never been my favorite season.  "Fall" down..."Fall" off the wagon...Inspite of the beautiful color, Fall feels like an ending, like a heartache. 

But this year I've been watching the color change more closely than usual.  Like the slow cooling of a valley at dusk,  the sun kissed edges of the leaves give way to a deep blush on the entire canopy.  The colors are so vivid you won't find them in any painter's pallet--golden leaf tips become a blaze in red, fade to a burnt orange, and on the lowest branches, green leaves yet untouched finish the spectrum.

I admire the trees.  Sentries of our landscape, they are the time keepers. The rhythm of the forest, the neighborhood, and the street, they have witnessed it all. Each year they prepare for this very moment. Once they get going, the fall foliage rivals any fireworks display. With their brilliant color, they show us how to live big, live fully, live now.  They don't hold back, they don't save some color for later.  The trees are not worried that they will run out of beautiful.  They are not afraid that it will be wasted. They are not concerned with investing too much in the production and coming out empty handed.  They already did the hard work.  They set their buds for spring.  No matter what, they cannot lose now.

Some think that the tree's colors are an indication that death is imminent....Winter is at their heels after all. But Autumn is not a song before dying.  Death is not imminent.  Trees don't give up when Winter comes--they take a well deserved rest.  And when they wake up, they start all over and do it again the next year...And the next year...And the next. Like Spring represents hope, Autumn is a promise, to weather, to adapt, to thrive.

So, when we falter, we can admire the old Oak, the Sycamore, the Maple, towering above us-- two hundred years of better and wiser and more spectacular.

This Fall, I'm going to face the heartache, shed some tears for what's been lost, and then look back with a smile.  The tears mean that we lived.

Celebrate the small victories, give thanks for what you have. Basque in the glorious sunshine.  Dance in the crisp air. Breathe deep in wisdom of the trees.

Never ever, ever, ever, ever give up -Winston Churchill
 


No comments:

Post a Comment