Fall Down
The trees are singing one last song of praise to their Maker. The wind lets loose leaf confetti and it blows past the window as we drive down into the valley. The sun is allowed into more of the woods and it's not as dark here as it is in the summer. The sky is a blue only seen in the fall. Crickets sing all day because they know the time is short. Gather in the last of the garden fruits and herbs before the first frost. Still plenty of green on the trees, but soon the balance will tip in favor of reds and yellows and purples.
It'a all so beautiful and sharp and fleeting. I know it's coming- the dark, the grey, the cold, the slow descent into a death-like world. It envelopes me every year, and I feel it coming on slowly, like old age. I want to see the beauty, to enjoy the colors and crisp air, to breathe it all in and bask. But I can't because I know it's all a prelude. A prelude to colorless, odorless, darkness.
And I just can't shake the feeling.
I know that I should not feel this way. I have a great life. Compared to most, it's idyllic. I shouldn't be wasting my time dreading the inevitable and thinking of ways to combat it and counting the days until spring, wishing I could sleep through the winter. But more and more this time of year, I feel like an old friend is slipping away from me, and loneliness sets in. In a house with 8 other people, I feel lonely, or as if something is just not quite right.
The rains come, pulling the yellow leaves off the Maple tree in the backyard. It's dark at dinner time and the kids are lighting candles on the table. Darkness excites their imaginations and I find myself wondering why it doesn't excite mine. Am I too old? Too pessimistic? Too tired?
Then comes the last few days of warm, dry weather. A last hurrah of running barefoot, windows open, climbing trees weather.
Heaven, I am sure, will be like a never-ending Fall,and I will know it's never ending and I will finally be able to sink down into it. With no winter on the horizon.
It'a all so beautiful and sharp and fleeting. I know it's coming- the dark, the grey, the cold, the slow descent into a death-like world. It envelopes me every year, and I feel it coming on slowly, like old age. I want to see the beauty, to enjoy the colors and crisp air, to breathe it all in and bask. But I can't because I know it's all a prelude. A prelude to colorless, odorless, darkness.
And I just can't shake the feeling.
I know that I should not feel this way. I have a great life. Compared to most, it's idyllic. I shouldn't be wasting my time dreading the inevitable and thinking of ways to combat it and counting the days until spring, wishing I could sleep through the winter. But more and more this time of year, I feel like an old friend is slipping away from me, and loneliness sets in. In a house with 8 other people, I feel lonely, or as if something is just not quite right.
The rains come, pulling the yellow leaves off the Maple tree in the backyard. It's dark at dinner time and the kids are lighting candles on the table. Darkness excites their imaginations and I find myself wondering why it doesn't excite mine. Am I too old? Too pessimistic? Too tired?
Then comes the last few days of warm, dry weather. A last hurrah of running barefoot, windows open, climbing trees weather.
Heaven, I am sure, will be like a never-ending Fall,and I will know it's never ending and I will finally be able to sink down into it. With no winter on the horizon.
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