Transitions

I will never fully appreciate the depth of God's creation. In just my small yard, there are flora and fauna, large and small. Some are obvious like the oaks, the ferns, the squirrels and chickadees. But there are also slugs and microbes, bacteria and lichen that escape my vision.

At this time of the year the cycle of decomposition holds forth. The supple, green leaves have hardened, died and fallen to the ground. The summer birds have long departed, leaving nectar and seeds uneaten to rot in the feeders.

The light of day shortens and darkness dominates. All of creation is preparing for the arrival of winter, those long white months of silence. I too, am getting ready. Gone are the sandals, replaced by heavy socks and boots. The coats come out frequently now; even warm autumn days have a tinge of winter chill in its breath.

Despite all the work needed to prepare for the snow, I find my own movement slowing down; a seasonal change to align with the quiet that the thick layer of snow brings. Even the rain has changed. It sounds colder now; the pitter-patter of summer sprinkles has given way to heavy thuds on the roofs and ground. Autumn in all her color is only a gateway to the somber arrival of winter. The cycle of new birth and growth has passed. It's time to sit back and rest.