What is happening in this season of my life…
It’s a funny thing how time changes everything and nothing simultaneously. I look around my home. Same house we’ve been living in since 2008. How can it be that time has brought us along to now?
There’s a lot that is the same. I look out the window and see the same red twin Maples in our front yard. The Peach Tree stunned us this year with shockingly large fruit, even after the lightning strike that almost took it out. The Crabapple Tree, bless that beautiful privacy-giving lush tree. It allows me to go out to the patio in my nightie in summertime without too much worry. And the Hollies! Lord, the Holly bushes in our yard are a winsome couple if ever there could be. They are the prince and princess of the yard, hosting and sheltering many birds that visit. I must not forget the Lilac Tree that grows in the far corner, each Spring dazzling us with pale purple blooms and an aroma confirming Spring’s sure arrival. Our yard is full of beauty, mostly because of my husband’s due diligence and appreciation for beautiful things. For this I am grateful. I get to receive the many blessings that come from his attention and care of the growing things on our property.
Some things are the same. Still growing, still becoming what they will continue to be as we grow along with them into old age. The Holly bushes were planted by my Great-Uncle. They have been here awhile. How long they will be here is something I do not know, nor can I control. What happens to them beyond my lifetime is something well beyond my ability to grasp. Some things we cannot know now. Some things we can never know, perhaps. How time strolls along the edges of eternity, an unseen dance never-ending.
Finally, Fall hints it has not forgotten its place in the lineup. I feel my soul breathe a sigh of relief at the possibility of Autumn’s arrival. Our backyard blessed us with an abundance of red raspberries and plump blackberries during summer. But the crisp, cool invitation of the season to come is irresistible to me and my desire for cozy blankets, warm sweaters, and apple cider by the mug.
It gets quieter here on the coast when the coolness comes. The beaches become home to the townies once again. The traffic is less, and the noise level drops. The energy is completely different. But even in the season of slowing down, there is busyness in preparations for the snap-cold to come with winter. Of course, the school busses whoosh by and the football stadium is full. But these are not the things that hold my attention in this season of my life.
I am drawn to the new life of the Magnolia Tree flourishing in our yard. It was a gift and the newest addition to the family of trees in our backyard. This gift from dear friends in remembrance of our girl
is robust and growing tall in its second year now. When we first planted it, we thought we would lose it due to its small size and immediate droop in its new environment. One of the bunnies in our yard chomped it down as soon as it was in the ground. My hub took immediate action and installed a small round wire mesh fence to keep out any sweetleaf predators. It paid off. After a season of what looked like death, the little tree rebounded with a burst of new growth.
We watch and wait for these signs of life and growth all around us. We rejoice with Spring’s offerings and summer’s generosity, and then Fall comes with its own beauty and reminder that dying is part of the cyclical nature of all things. The oranges, golds, and burgundies- even the browns will cause us to pause with our eyes wide at the beauty before us. Yet this is the season of dying, of letting go, of quiet trust for the dormancy that must come- and with it the great sleep of Winter.
I am unsure about the days ahead; I keep letting them slowly unfold one at a time. Not at all like dominoes falling one into another but more like the unfurling from bud to full bloom. Each day is like a new flower opening to possibility, living, dying, living again. All of life unfolds repeatedly daily.
I wouldn’t trade any of the seasons I get to experience here on the East Coast, each one brings lessons and reflections in its time. Each holds a piece of the whole of the One who created all seasons and all things great and small.
My husband teases me now, reminding me I am in my “60th year” though I argue that I only just turned fifty-nine. And so it goes, time goes on as we stand on the shore watching the crest of the waves, the moon’s glow, and listen to the crickets sing their own songs from the dark. Morning will come, yes- the sun will rise. Forsythia will sleep until next March. The flowers have bedded down. We watch and wait. We hope and trust. We believe in things that cannot be seen but only in God’s time, and by His sure and steady light. Each day a new chance to bloom and die again.
What’s happening in this season of your life? I dare you to write about it right now.
Enthusiastically, Dawn 