Shining for a moment, until
our fear of being laughed at
tugs at our necks like a chain.
To own our being after our
life travels can be difficult.
To be brave and claim the right to shine is ours alone.
“[N]obody likes having salt rubbed into
their wounds, even it it is the salt of the earth.”
~ Rebecca West, The Harsh Voice
 |
| October, 2008 Hazeldell Orchards, Kelowna |
Autumn shows up faithfully each year to the call of the geese gathering flocks; with boisterous winds cold and rough edged.
Bales of straw and hay, rolled and tied, lie quietly in fields of gold, a nest for mice and voles until trucked away.
Leaves, as if by magic, change into their beautiful red, gold, orange hues readying for the final float to the ground.
Fruits, vegetables and grain,
ripe for harvesting, fill markets
with abundance for winter
sustenance and goodness.
Soups and stews bubble and steam
to serve the bounty of harvest
at the table; warming insides
to ease the loss of summer.
Sweaters and blankets, their cosy warmth
for colder days and nights, are
resurrected from dark cupboards
~ friendly companions in the chill of autumn.
“I notice that Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature.”
~ Friedrich Nietzsche
Easing towards any season has an odd mix of excitement and disbelief, especially spring and summer.
‘Spring is coming and
it will never get here.
It will be winter forever.
We’ll all freeze solid’
Spring and summer greet chirping birds back from the south, or wherever birds go for the winter. And then there’s warmth; green trees and flowers ~ visible burgeoning life!
It’s ok for spring to blend into summer,
but when nights get colder and most flowers have
become one with the grass,
except the audacious sunflowers,
spicy chrysanthemums and ferocious tiger lilies.
Autumn is a beautiful month. Trees become
bouquets of colour, preparing for the next
cycle of falling leaves. Of course, the
unmentionable is the season of ice and snow.
But it too will have it’s own dangerous
beauty of glitter, frost and ice.
“Things have their time, even eminence bows to timeliness.”
~ Balthasar Gracian, The Art of Worldly Wisdom
