The Days Become Shorter
“The days become shorter and colder, the trees shed their glory, and summer’s abundance starts to decay toward winter’s death…Then I began to understand a simple fact: All the “falling” that’s going on out there is full of promise. Seeds are being planted and leaves are being composted as Earth prepares for yet another uprising of green.”
Today is the last day of our island holiday. I was going to give myself a reprieve from writing a blog post this week but sitting here with my morning coffee, reluctant to start cleaning and packing, I find myself scribbling a few lines – to share with you my thoughts and to calm my restlessness.
The wind is relentless this morning! In the pre-dawn hours, with just a dusting of light to the east, I heard it approaching, a gentle rustling in the distance that grew to a roar as it drew near. The sky is now a brilliant blue and the heat hangs heavy in the air, but the alder trees by the pond continue to bow deeply to the wind. There is no bird song this morning, no croaking tree frogs, and even the skies are empty of eagles riding thermals. The air is restless this morning. I also feel that restlessness.
Heading over on the ferry last Friday I had envisioned a week of morning hikes through old-growth forest, and afternoons curled up on the deck with a pile of books. I was looking forward to maybe beating my husband in a game of cribbage. But I’ve only been on one walk – hardly a hike - and read two books – when usually I read a book a day during our island sojourns. I did, however, manage to win one crib tournament!
This restlessness I’m feeling has been with me all week; I feel off-kilter. I haven’t been able to focus on any task for very long. My nights have been filled with exhausting dreams that have slipped from my memory upon waking. The evenings have cooled down, and we’ve needed a second blanket. Every morning I have lingered in bed over my morning coffee, indulging in the warm comfort of our duvet. What I have come to realize, is that my body and my mind are slowly adjusting to the changing of seasons. I feel a deep yearning for the cooler, rainy fall days that are just around the corner. My friend June posted a photo of a Greenwich bookstore on Facebook yesterday, a photo taken on a dark, blustery day. I breathed a deep sigh of contentment.
September has always felt like the beginning of a new year. Autumn has always been my favourite season. Autumn is nature at its finest. The leaves turn spectacular colours before they fall and crunch under my feet. Spider webs glisten in the early morning light, spun between the bushes and plants in the backyard. A silver layer of frost lies crisp over the grass. It is for me, the quietest time of the year, a time of rest, reflection and rebirth.
And this year, for the first time ever, I am keenly aware that I have entered the autumn of my life. I am feeling the pull of the natural world on my body. This is my time to hibernate, to sink deep underground so I can pause, reflect and ponder on what I want to give myself to on this journey.
“This is the season she will make beautiful things. Not perfect things but honest things that speak to who she is and who she is called to be”.
– Morgan Harper Nichols