This morning I wrote a post elsewhere about how autumn seems so bittersweet. As beautiful as the colors of autumn can be, the time to enjoy the colors lessens with the passing of each day as we move closer to winter.
Today the wind picked up and the tree in front of my townhouse, as well as those in the neighborhood, are nearly bare. As I wrote:
“One day they are clothed in all the glorious color that is autumn. The next they are standing naked, exposed for the world to see.”
Last year’s Superbowl Champions, our Seattle Seahawks lost today’s game to the St. Louis Rams, one of the bottom three in this year’s season thus far. Seattle’s win-loss record is now at 3-3, hardly the mark of a champion.
As I contemplate how the fall brings about change in our world, there are other changes that happen to us all. None of us stays young forever. Nothing seems to stand still long enough for us to get used to it. Of course, change is not all bad.
But there are seasons in our lives when we are simply not prepared for the stark
brutality reality that comes when we least expect it: The sting of the biting cold from what we thought was a blanket of warmth that would protect us forever.
Living through these seasons, we must hold on to the hope that we will weather the storms. Time will pass and new growth will soon appear, and we will, once again, bask in all that makes us feel alive and whole. Sometimes, it may simply take a bit longer than we want.
“And there is also a stark reminder that what (or who) we know and love (and often take for granted) deserts us for a season that may span a decade of autumns.”