Seasons

My mother hates the autumn. Life, to her is represented in the green lushness of the spring and summer. The changing and the soon falling leaves, to her only represent an end.....death.....not so with me...or not exactly, and not without joy, or at least anticipation.

The autumn is a beautiful change....a brief interlude between the hot sticky summer, and the wet cold stark winter....It's my favorite season, albiet brief. I need it. I need the respit...and time to adjust, and prepare for  the coming cold. I revel in the glory of the colors....the cool breezes...the smell of burning leaves....The energy.

I guess, at 53, this is my autumn...perhaps in some ways, this is my favorite time of my life.  I'm more colorful than I use to be......less conservative in speech, tending to speak my mind more than I use to.  Maybe it's the knowledge that my leaves, though bright now, will soon be falling....leaving me perhaps a bit naked.....vulnerable....and closer to my own ending....

But there is always the fire in this season....the burning of the old and no longer needed...a certain freeing from the past....a preparation for the transformation to come....the wait.....Don't misunderstand me...this is not sad for me....I am not so evolved that I am fearless....but evolved enough to know it awaits non the less, and to not prepare is rather foolish....just as wildlife prepares for the long winter...so must we all.....

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