I wanted to write lightheartedly and was determined to do that. After days of pondering and stewing, no topic reached out to me.
Fall is my favorite season but it seems an inescapably sad time of year. Those I’ve loved who’ve died all passed in fall and now there’s the foreboding loss of a dear friend. Maybe that’s reason enough. No matter how I’ve tried I can’t seem to shake the melancholy.
Nature itself is dying. It teaches us to know that there will be new life and fresh vigor. For fall-season-lovers like me, we also know there will come new beauty in a new winter.
Dogwood trees are turning leaves and a small woods out back is thinning again, its gray jagged branches reaching up from what green remains. Colorful leaves dot the ground and many that aren’t float in breezes soon to turn bitter cold. Snowflakes will fall, hopefully the heavy gentle, silent ones that I love so much, bringing to peace reminders of the sadness.
Surely our lives cycle in the same ways as nature. I cannot imagine a better example of what life is than the reliable cycles of seasons. Surely God gave those to us for that very reason. Could it be any more obvious?
Is it wrong to look forward to dying? Is it strange to think of it as much as I do right now? Sometimes I look forward to it and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes dying feels like a grand reprieve to all of the struggle it takes to live; other times it feels like a scary journey that I’m not sure I’m prepared to take. In the meantime I still wake up every day and as long as I do that I have to suppose there’s a reason for it. As natural as death should feel it never does.
I’m in the fall season of a lifetime … my leaves have blown around for a while now and my branches reach up in a starker gray. When my time comes I hope it’s as peaceful and pure as that first walk in a freshly fallen, heavy & silent white snow.
Marie’s home is just a door down from me. For the first time I can recall, at my pup’s mid-morning outing all of Marie’s blinds are drawn tightly closed .No one is seen or heard moving about or coming & going. Sitting out with my pup, even she keeps poking her head around the corner, seemingly curious herself why there is no activity or, perhaps, instinctively knowing.
That makes this fall day feel all the more ominous.