September. The changing seasons, God’s marking of time as transformative cycles of creation. A divine plan for continuity and metamorphosis are inextricably woven together.
At this time of year, here in North American, shifting late afternoon sun scatters new patterns of shadows on the kitchen floor. The days grow shorter. Dawn arrives more slowly, urging one to stay in bed, to rest, and slow down to savor this sacred time of year. The bright blue sky creates a vibrant background for the blazing red sugar maples, now in their full fall glory.
Squirrel is busy running back and forth along the rail fence, cheeks bulging with bounty to be stored away. A murder of crows gathers each morning in the oak tree waiting for their breakfast of peanuts in the shell, a sure sign that its harvest time. Mouse in the woods across the road burrows under fallen leaves. Deer frolic in the woods as they celebrate the mating season. Ripe red pomegranates and black mission figs have replaced cherries and nectarines on the market’s fruit stand. Summer has waned. Bonfires on the beach fill the chilly evening air with an unmistakable smell that stirs a primal remembering deep in my bones.
Memories of girlhood autumns tumble down the stairs from the attic in my mind, like rainbow-colored marbles spilling from a velvet pouch. I close my eyes and see… A new Big Chief tablet with the Indian in his fine headdress on the red paper cover. Fat orange pencils with perfect points. A bright new yellow box of crayons. The smell of those waxy colors stays with me to this day.
My sepia colored recall continues… I am walking home from school, braids flying behind me, saddle shoes skipping along the sidewalk covered with crunchy brown, red, and gold leaves. Opening the door to our house I can smell freshly baked snicker-doodles as mother removes them from the big white enameled oven, soon to be washed down with a cup of warm cider at the kitchen table before beginning the dreaded math homework.
Cherished memories of a simpler time, now etched in a safe place in my heart, never to be forgotten. This afternoon I stand near the window watching the fog roll in while a thought occurs…What will arrive this year on the chill of the wind as winter approaches? What within my spirit is withering, changing color, and readying to let go in tandem with the falling leaves?
- How does autumn engage your heart and creative spirit?
- What memories of a simpler time do you cherish?
- How will you take time to experience God’s Creation in this transformative season?
GO DEEPER
The changing of the seasons is a perfect time to explore your senses as a way to engage with the Divin. Learn more about Belle Coeur’s Mini-Course Awaken Your Senses: Sacred Practices for Vibrant Living.
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