The Seasons

Author’s Note: I wrote this in October 2015 for a writing exercise for grad school. Transition to Fall is upon us as I saw one tree today that had blazing red leaves. Also, my bet is we are all facing other transitions…one sort or another. 

seasons-002

I think about when I am going to die. Well, maybe not the when (definitely not the why or the how!) but the season. My problem lies here: I love all the seasons. I will tell you today that Fall is my favorite. I love the change in temperature, the cornucopia harvests, the trees showing their true colors, and the clothes. There is nothing better than a sweatshirt, leggings and boots.

Here’s my conundrum… Do I want to die in the fall or live all the way through it to winter? Do I want to soak up every day, every moment of seasonal transition? Or do I want to die when the world is most beautiful?

Then, I think about living through Fall into Winter. As someone who grew up in The South where we are as afraid of snowflakes as 1860’s Georgians were afraid of Sherman, I worry that if I die in winter people won’t be able to attend my service. Seriously, I think about these things. But here’s the deal, when I am in winter I love winter the best. I love the forced slowness, how sound is both muffled and amplified. I love walking my dog in the snow, snow ball fights, baking, hibernating. I want to soak up every moment of winter because there is beauty in stillness, in cold, in laying in wait.

Then Spring arrives in its timidity; first, the tiny crocus makes its entrance giving us all HOPE that the freeze is over. Then, practically without warning or worry spring just arrives in its full glory. I love spring. I love Easter. I love resurrection. I worry about dying in spring. I want to soak it all up.

I even love Summer. Hot, humid, sticky, mosquito-y summer. I love the different rhythm of the day, road trips, and decorating my house in red, white, and blue bunting.

Tonight by the fire I am soaking up life. The crickets. My daughter. The sound of a crackling fire. The heat from the flames. Perfectly golden roasted marshmallows. Today, I am going to live. Yes, one day closer to my death, but I want to let it be known that all of it–ALL OF IT–even the emotional winters, the spiritual resurrections, the births of children, the loss of husband/home/mother/job–ALL OF IT–all if it has been my favorite because it is mine. Blessed to see seasons of change/transition/hibernation.

Know that when I die it will be my favorite season.

Amen. 

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2 thoughts on “The Seasons

  1. Thank you for sharing this with me. Absolutely stunning seasons…. The good, the bad, and the indifferent. Love you! 

    Sent from my Verizon Wireless 4G LTE smartphone

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