I love fall. Every day something new. Wind stirring leaves across the deck or whirling them in random waves from their branches. Gold, rust, scarlet, fading greens of all hues. Fallen leaves forming ever-shifting patterns on the ground. Quiet days and howling nights. Sun, rain, unpredictable temperatures. All of it morphing summer’s landscapes both interior and beyond. The hint of cold to come; the nostalgia of warmth leaving. The snap of first frost with its promises of warming fires and soups. The changing light. Sudden silence following the incessant honking of traveling vee’s of south-winging geese. The quieting of songbirds. Cold-nosed nights under cosy comforters. Turning inward to reflect, hold, contemplate.
It turns out my new pup loves fall, as well. We take long walks along beach, through forest, in open fields. Each scent an announcement of some new joy or mystery for her to solve. Each clump of grass an excuse to explore. Each canine encounter cause for celebratory play. Each basin of water an invitation to splash and leap. The sheer exuberance of it all is heart-expanding, energizing. The season renews and invigorates even as it winds down to quiet and stillness. And then there’s the experience of a single, perfect day.
A Perfect Day 9.28.21 Daybreak. Orange fluttering atop pink milkweed, six or more pairs a token of past years’ orange clouds covering fields to refuel en route south for winter. A yoga hour of stretch, rise, bend, reach, the dog beside me on the mat, her bone firm between paw and jaw. The two of us savoring the calm. Ahead, gathering and dispersing weed, broken branch; checking for ripe eggplant, tomato; plucking the last golden raspberries from their canes. Later, a dark gray ribbon snaking the horizon vowing thunder and pelting rain to follow. The dog reveling in the rise and fall of foam-edged tide; and I, in four decades of this same walk my children growing up and I, old. Shoreline receding with memories of each summer spent, each reunion and visit shared. Evening sun sliding down its softened hues. Peace rising between and around us. swb
The paradox of Fall, ” The season renews and invigorates even as it winds down to quiet and stillness” . It reminds us that change is coming, that no season lasts forever, that all things end and new things begin, that we must shift our selves to accommodate the changes of the season. A good thing.