On Autumn
No time of year gives rise to seasonal affection more than the enthralling flux of Fall. Autumn calls for contemplation, the bridge from one year to the next. But don’t just walk across; the water is already under and passed.
Stop and savour the sights and sounds. The paradox of the autumnal passage is that only this time of year stands still; if only for an instant, if ever you would pause with her, and rest a little while.
Everything merges in autumn. The only season to fuse parts of each into an embracing whole; the remnants of summer light, the beginning of faint, distant winter daybreaks, and the cool, skin-kissing crisp air of spring. How enriched our experience of the external world is gifted us by the temporal variance of the seasons.
The ambience of each season soothes harmoniously with the mood of our inner world. The Gaelic word for autumn is “fómhar”, literally meaning harvest; autumn is a time for gathering ourselves together after the hedonic, hectic sweat of summer.
Autumn is the season that summons us to stand still; a retreat after summer, a respite before winter. Pause with her, and rest a little while. Drink in the pastel blue-grey skies and bask in the warming glow of the reddening leaves.
The leaves are revealing their true colours, parting with their chlorophyll; this is a summons to mimic them, and embrace our fallow time. Soak in the kaleidoscope of colour, the shades of green and orange hues, the panoramic pigments painted by nature; her masterpiece mural.
Autumn is an enigma. The serenity of the season begets stillness, yet nature is in breathtaking motion. This is autumn’s ruse, juxtaposing the commotion of our lives against the beauty of her brief repose; we rushedly blink, and the trees are naked again.
Don’t Fall for the ruse; stop and stand still, pause with autumn, survey her serene scenery. And rest, a little while.
Beautifully written, thank you!!