It’s that time again, when the afternoon sun lingers in the sky lazily as if reflecting upon the busier days of summer. Its autumn. My favorite time of the year.
Like Spring, Autumn reminds us of the cyclical nature by which we all live. The very world around us forces us to bear witness to the miracle that is life and death. The vibrant birth of all things colorful and green, now entering its final days. The circle of life that is nature.
As the leaves shift in color, a bit of melancholy fills the air; due to the visual reminder that all things change. All things, good and bad, must come to an end. Only the hand of God would signal the shift from life to dormancy with such brilliancy and beauty.
Nature never intends for things not to change. Change is all nature knows. Change is all nature does. The very cycle that is life, hinges upon change. The smell of the air changes. As if from long days baking, the earth emits a tired, yet beautiful perfume. The wind blows as if to remind us that something breathes beyond our view; something colder, something harsher. And the sun, when making its appearance, does so with little restraint. Instead it reveals its heat and magnificence with unabashed confidence. Nature, while alive, never forgets to live.
Whatever this divine source is that made all things, did so knowing there’s more to life than utilitarian function. Life is an expression. There’s a woman I know, who’s gentle disposition and delicate face always struck me much like that of a perfect rose. Both inward and outward, she was lovely. A when young, I wished to be more like her. Nature never wishes for anything beyond what it is. From the moment it emerges, it lives in full expression. Therefore, when a tree ends its cycle it does so knowing it has lived, and it has lived well. This gentle woman, whom I’ve mentioned, passed away last night. And as I sit here, with my days steadily unfurling beneath me, my heart hurts and my mind wonders. Her soul ended the life cycle, knowing it had done all it had intended. Did her mind know this as well? I will never know. Like the trees that turn color to remind us that all things change, and that all things must come to an end – I will look upon her passing as a reminder. We can’t control change. We can no sooner control nature’s cycle than we can control the positioning of the stars. But we can be in harmony with change. And while doing so, live a life that is unabashed and fully expressed.
In memory of the girl with porcelain skin, and Farrah Fawcett hair for whom I wanted so much to be like. Your gentle spirit, and easy smile, will be missed.
Written to, Symptoms by Atlas Genius