This is my absolute favorite time of year. Fall colors resonate deeply with me, and I feel like I belong on this tapestry. Browns and golds and greens reflect in my eyes, red and burgundy flow in my veins. I always feel a little sad as the season begins. I feel even sadder as it ends. There’s something about this heroic explosion of color as the world marches slowly toward winter that makes me feel triumphant and nostalgic to the point of tears. This moment is temporary, but it holds the seeds of eternity and the losses of the past in its grip. It is a complex and fleeting experience, a poignant mood that sweeps by like a leaf on the wind.
How much color is a “Woman of Maturity” allowed to wear, anyway? Mother Nature gets away with quite a lot: yellows, oranges, reds, purples, blues and greens of infinite shades. For the better part of the year, she is clad in the most spectacular array of rainbow hues.
And in some parts of the world, she spends months at a time wearing a shroud of monochrome, showing her age and her unique gravity. This hints at perhaps a serious contemplation of the energy it takes to be fecund and exuberantly colorful.
Don’t let this muted color palette fool you. The ol’ girl is just as vibrant as ever, and her maturity shows in her ability to exhibit her shadow side with just as much style and grace as she displays on her sunnier face!
May we follow her example and not be ashamed to show our true colors in their full spectrum!
The temperature drops 30 degrees overnight. Oh, but we were warned, so we went out to embrace the front, the wind howling from the south, still warm. The clouds gathered in the valley, the sky darkened, the weeds shuddered…very gradually, drops began to fall. It rained all night. This morning, I went through the house pulling the glass panes down over the screens in all the windows. The furnace rumbled to life every few minutes. The trees are mostly bare. It is late fall at last and winter is just around the corner. I dearly wish I had a fireplace or woodstove…