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| The Opposing Realities Of Fall |
It never fails. Ever.
Each and every October I find myself both conflicted and challenged by the parallel and opposing realities of this month. October. The change of season of light and dark of harvest and season are obvious to one degree or another in much of the country. It is especially striking in these hills and farmlands beneath my feet, my own and all the acres around me.
The harvest in true agricultural areas is massive - corn, potato, squash, clover, apples, silage, pumpkins, the last lingering tomatoes, firewood...
If it has a purpose for human or livestock it is accounted for, considered and brought in from the hills and fields. Winter survival for man and beast, for hearth and home, for sale or sharing. The bounty, is remarkable. Always. Hard won by hard work.
Canning and freezing are a happy frenzied obsession. Barns are repaired. Storm windows brought out and cleaned. Soon they will be in place.
A time of celebration. Of preparation. The land gives so we will eat and stay warm during the months of winter.
Amazing and heartwarming.
And yet there is (for me) a lingering sadness alongside this month of harvest and beauty. The quiet footfall of winter treading ever nearer. The wooded paths that calm and teach me filled with leaves now dry crunching beneath my barn boots.
"Goodbye" they whisper as I walk... goodbye.
The sun grows weak, the wind gains strength.
The season slips towards sleep and for all the beauty and vibrancy there is a melancholy I can't deny in the withering of the sun, the green, life.
Nature sings the same song in her endless cycle ~ birth, growth, life, withering, and ultimately ~ sleep. Each holds beauty, each holds truth. None can be bypassed nor changed.
October. A mystical, joyous, heartbreaking, confusing conflicted yet favored month in every year of my life....
Each and every October I find myself both conflicted and challenged by the parallel and opposing realities of this month. October. The change of season of light and dark of harvest and season are obvious to one degree or another in much of the country. It is especially striking in these hills and farmlands beneath my feet, my own and all the acres around me.
The harvest in true agricultural areas is massive - corn, potato, squash, clover, apples, silage, pumpkins, the last lingering tomatoes, firewood...
If it has a purpose for human or livestock it is accounted for, considered and brought in from the hills and fields. Winter survival for man and beast, for hearth and home, for sale or sharing. The bounty, is remarkable. Always. Hard won by hard work.
Canning and freezing are a happy frenzied obsession. Barns are repaired. Storm windows brought out and cleaned. Soon they will be in place.
A time of celebration. Of preparation. The land gives so we will eat and stay warm during the months of winter.
Amazing and heartwarming.
And yet there is (for me) a lingering sadness alongside this month of harvest and beauty. The quiet footfall of winter treading ever nearer. The wooded paths that calm and teach me filled with leaves now dry crunching beneath my barn boots.
"Goodbye" they whisper as I walk... goodbye.
The sun grows weak, the wind gains strength.
The season slips towards sleep and for all the beauty and vibrancy there is a melancholy I can't deny in the withering of the sun, the green, life.
Nature sings the same song in her endless cycle ~ birth, growth, life, withering, and ultimately ~ sleep. Each holds beauty, each holds truth. None can be bypassed nor changed.
October. A mystical, joyous, heartbreaking, confusing conflicted yet favored month in every year of my life....
1 comment:
That is so true. The changes aren't so noticeable here as there, but every part of the country has its own rhythms as the seasons change. Hope you're well. Hugs.
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