The Autumn of My Years

Today is a work day for me, and I diligently sat in my studio and toiled away for a few hours this morning, but by noon I simply couldn't bear it anymore; the Wind was calling out to me, shaking my window and rustling my papers, tugging at my sleave with a joyous ernestness that I simply could not ignore.

How I wish I could truly express what this season means to me. As I walk through this weather, I feel as if I have been awakened from a deep slumber, and now is my time to live and breathe and beat my drum for all to hear. There is such duality in this season. Bright yellows and burning reds, sombre browns and dull greens; the sky a mosaic of shimmery sun and white and grey; Life and Death so close together. I think that's why I love this season more than any other: the beauty and decay of Autumn is a haunting reminder of our own mortality.

The Wind is whispering in my ear, nothing is forever, not even you. stop. walk slow. breathe it in. take this time to think. read. wonder.

Comments

[Pete]

Well put. This lifelong Chicagoan feels the same way. It's something that beachcombing, sun-tanned Californians and Floridians will never understand.

[Scully]

Isn't autumn just the best? I love it. I was born in the fall and it just seems natural that I would love it the most.

But the problem is, I live in Calgary, where we get fall for about three seconds.

The fall I love is autumn in Vancouver. It's breathtaking.

[Lindy]

You know, I was thinking something similar last night as we had our first rain of the season here, and finally it felt like Autumn had really arrived. Very well said, Patricia, quite a lovely invocation of some of the things I love most about Autumn...