Transitions . . .

The first week of October and the trees are speckled with golden leaves among the green ones.  The sun is setting before 7 p.m. and the only birds I see flying over head are chimney sweeps and Canadian geese.  There are no longer any songbirds trills---they have been replaced by the cawing of crows.   We are definitely ensconced in the early days of autumn as the whir of combines and a huge cloud of dust is constantly rising from the grain elevator both day and night.  The butterfly bush is still blooming in the garden but there are no butterflies.  The garden is looking spent as the tomatoes are small and few in number.   I love the sights and smells of fall, but I also feel a sense of foreboding because I know that a long spell of winter white will follow the riot of color that is rapidly developing around me.  One day the trees are clothed and then the cold rains and winds of late fall will remove their raiment and overnight the trees will stand stark and naked against the gray skies of winter.  Winter when gray days make it seem as if twilight meets twilight and silence is only interrupted by the howling of the winds through the pines. 

I lay in the grass soaking in these last days of carefree coatless, shoeless freedom.  My soul craves the communion I have with the out of doors, but that communion will soon be muffled by boots, coats, gloves, snow cover and darkness in the winter.  How distant those first sweet days of spring seem right now.  I am overwhelmed by the maudlin feelings of someone who is seeing the last glimpses of land upon embarking on a long ship voyage knowing full well that it will be a long time before one can again see dry land. 

Winter is a voyage for me.  Just as the ocean, it can be beautiful and beguiling and suddenly turn to torment and treachery.  Winter is definitely not for the faint hearted.  It can drive many a soul inward to spend long nights with the only comfort being the warmth of the fireside.  Winter is a time for introspection and reflection.  A time for hibernation and hot cocoa.  A time for comforting foods and the comforting words of good books.  A time for self indulgence and long naps.  A time for consolation that can only be found in hot soup and warm slices of homemade bread.   Sometimes the world seems to stand still in winter.  It is as if nature has hit the pause button and the fast forward is broken along with your spirit. 

I watch two squirrels intent on burying hickory nuts in the woodland before me and know that I, too, must prepare the last of my winter store and brace myself for what lies ahead.  Winter is inevitable and unavoidable. 
It will bring a black and white world, a clean slate for man and beast, a new beginning and if one rides the white wave of the season---you realize that the world is a new blank canvas just in time for a new year and before you know it, it will be time to wake up from the deep winter sleep as the world reawakens and pick up your renewed spirit and write a brand new chapter.