So much happening in the world. Isn't it tempting to just be absent, buy pumpkins and mums and shut out all the rest? Climate change, storms, racial tensions, another world war threatening, suffering, abuse...the list goes on. This week, I counted 6 mentions of horrific child abuse in my Facebook feed alone- half of them not in a far away place, but local. So often I question what is happening to humankind! Equally often, I marvel over the helpers and heroes that work for peace and justice, spread love, expend huge amounts of energy to rebuild after natural disasters, plant trees, monitor wildlife, study climate, assist the ill and poor.
Our church recently hosted a retreat/workshop on racism. Amid the many sobering statics and historical events of our country, I found this hope: Despite many news stories of violence and injustice, most of us feel safe enough to go outside our homes every day. This means there are more humans who are decent and kind than destructive or violent. Something to celebrate and foster in areas where this hope is not evident.
Our church recently hosted a retreat/workshop on racism. Amid the many sobering statics and historical events of our country, I found this hope: Despite many news stories of violence and injustice, most of us feel safe enough to go outside our homes every day. This means there are more humans who are decent and kind than destructive or violent. Something to celebrate and foster in areas where this hope is not evident.
Whatever this season brings, Autumn always invites me to stay calm and open even as I resist shorter, colder days. Like the chipmunks readying their tunnels underground, I too am deepening, preparing for holing up, hibernating a little during winter.
September is always a mixed bag for me: beautiful blue skies with white fluffy clouds, clear days, my birthday, the anniversary of my father's death, and memories of 9-ll. I love autumn, and I resist it. I mourn summer's passing, am melancholy with sad memories, while loving and celebrating life. The older one gets, the more one holds contrasts.
Perhaps it's just me, but this year, it seemed like the eclipse stole the sun faster. The days seemed to shrink quickly after the sun hid behind the moon.
This Restless Season
Autumn breezes tickle the
senses.
Geese fly with beating wings,
a country
rap in rhythm with pings of acorns,
hickory
nuts falling on tin roofs covering
tractor
sheds all over Appalachia. Hints
of color
and vibrancy soften the end
of summer. Short
days bring a thousand small
deaths. Yet,
chestnuts in high trees, swell
with prickly glory. Waiting
for some secret
signal to drop to the ground with
bullying thud,
camouflaged between twig and fallen
leaf,
awaiting the bare feet of
those
resisting this restless
season, still clinging to
memories of warm grass and popsicles.
The apple-
cinnamon coats of deer,
frolicking in sun-lit meadows
give way to shades of serious brown.
Dull, like rotting leaves and discarded
walnut husks. In Autumn, fawns still romp, but the
herds are edgy, gorging on
acorns, rutting, ruining
shrubs with thrashing antlers,
boxing
away rivals with
delicate hooves. Then,
even velvet itches; longing
fills mammalian souls.
Seasons come, seasons go. Hurricanes
blow, floods
rise, as does hope and
despair. Tides roll out.
Moons ripen and disappear. The
religious
spout platitudes in the face of
trauma; atheists
shake their heads, their
fists. Lovers simply
roll up their sleeves, bring
shovels
and clean water, offer up hearts
full of compassion.
How easy, resisting, hardening
through
the seasons, with faith or
without. Autumn invites
vulnerability, openness. Yes,
store up,
prepare; then share, let go.
Embrace many small
deaths – humanity’s only way
of changing seasonal
coats. Whatever comes, whatever
color of skin or
pelt, deep within hearts beat the same.
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