Autumn

Funny how the warmest of colors are lured out of the greenest of leaves in the crisp nip of fall.......
I hate this particular change of season. I suppose I too have problems with transitioning....this station of seasonal cycle brings me back to the stations of the cross, and all those Holy Thursdays spent walking the perimeters of the church, under my mothers warning eyes, and the priests monotonous drone. I know this may seem a little over dramatic for most, but Autumn is the Last Supper. Autumn is the betrayal. A few short weeks of red and yellow leaves riding brisk winds, pumpkin patches, corn mazes, hay rides, and decorated porches and lawns....and then it's over. It's grey and cold and barren. No leaves on trees, no flowers bloom, no lush green grass...no beach filled days, no firefly nights...no sitting on the porch with a good book.... ."no New Years day to celebrate, no chocolate candy hearts to give away".....Stevie Wonder keeps singing in my head.......

I am not a winter person. I am not someone who enjoys the snow, or thinks that anything cold, wait, let me rephrase that, most anything cold, could possibly be invigorating,...it's absolutely torturous.

But then, I have these 3 wonders that lose themselves in piles of leaves......
And get excited about Halloween,carving pumpkins, and costumes, and spooky walks and everything ghoulish and slimy.......They love the idea of family gathering for Thanksgiving at our house. They dream about Christmas for most of the year.....They believe in color. They believe in light. They believe in decorations, in trimmings, in details. They believe in magic. And while Autumn betrays me, it inspires them. It's all about the ultimate sensory experience.

I look over. Resting against the chair is a bag full of theatrical makeup, zombie masks, spiked choke collars, clown hair, derby hats.....I am Thursdays child. I am supposed to be full of grace. Holy Thursday....I'm still walking the perimeters, only this time this house, this neighborhood, this time, this life takes the place of church. Warning eyes are now mine. The monotonous sermon is nothing more than a negative monologue....How ridiculous to not embrace the beauty of fall because I dread the barren nature of winter. What a sin. I suppose nothing that can be resurrected really ever completely died. Perhaps this holds true within me too.....As worn as I have felt these last few weeks, today, in the midst of chores, homework, running errands, barking orders to pick up rooms, cooking, cleaning, laundry, I looked around the dinner table in awe. My family, loud, boisterous, funny, loving, tender, mischievous, sometimes careless, sometimes carefree, sits enthusiastically sharing a days worth of thoughts and experiences over an arroz con pollo. This is supper, hopefully not the last, but definitely present.
This is what is real, what is worth the sacrifice, what is worth believing in. This is my Christmas morning on an Autumn evening. Autumn, I am beginning to understand, never betrayed me.
My fears continuously do.

All falls back into place. The table is cleared, the yelling about the rooms not being picked up resumes, dishes are washed, dogs walked, showers taken, teeth brushed. The house is quiet for a few hours. Outside my window I hear my windchimes, like the leaves, riding the breeze.

Winds of change?

Transitions.....transformations.........

Perhaps I do love the Fall................