For the last few weeks, fall has been stretching its chilly limbs into our atmosphere, warning us of things to come. No, we have not experienced an arctic blast or any cataclysmic weather inversion system. In fact, September has been unusually balmy, the skies have been blue, the sun darting quiet heat into midday hours. However, for someone who is highly sensitive to the the first and last embrace of light, the crispy mornings and brisk evenings have been a notably discernible change.
I seem to be in the minority with this nostalgia over summer's departure. The internet seems to have come alive with the changing of the leaves and the shedding of torrential heat as summer breaths its last. The blogosphere is ringing with delight tidings of all things pumpkin and sweater weather. The young and the young-at-heart are resetting their calendars, shifting focus and priorities with the demands of another school year. Apples of various shades and blends of sweet-versus-tart are offered where once blueberries filled market stands, and squashes of all stripes are replacing the delicate salad bunches that spelt summer with their chlorophyll. The bright colors mimicking summer gardens are replaced with hues of autumn's harvest and the earth that yields it. Even though Autumn is yet to make its official entrance this Saturday, she has marked her crisp territory in the landscape of our lives, some happily heralding the season's arrival for weeks now.
In climates other than where I live, fall is truly beautiful, turning forests into shades of red and yellow, bringing a welcome change to the dry exhale of summer. Even here, fall can put a pleasant face for a day or two or some other crumb of time. But, just as we begin to love fall back, a dramatic change cloaks the atmosphere with no respite in sight for many months to come. The skies clothe themselves in sackcloth, sending bone-chilling showers for what seems like endless days. Rain seems to be the only offering on Autumn's menu according to the laws of climate for our geographical location. I am sure that the west coast is the birthplace of seasonal affective disorder, also known as "I am tired of the rain" syndrome. Of course, please take my diagnosis with a grain of salt as I have no letter parade behind my name to qualify me for such pronouncements.
As dreary as fall can be on my morsel of the planet, I can still find joy in the rhythms of daily life if my heart is willing to receive it. A few days ago I baked the first apple dessert of the season, reminding me of the sweet gifts of autumn. Soft and juicy pears have been filling our fruit basket as Michal is a pear enthusiast, consuming them with the kind of glee I consume chocolate. Our house is comfortable at night, as previously the summer heat had dissected our sleep with restless tossings. The office is finally a pleasant haven for work for my extremely sensitive-to-heat husband. Fall has brought some welcome changes indeed...
I am learning that each season has an allotment of wisdom, and there are abundant gifts to be gleaned with the changing of the weather. I wish I had arrived at contentment amidst the graying landscapes earlier in life, but, "forgetting what is behind", I chose thankfulness today. "God has made everything beautiful for its own time", and He has blessed this season with the abundant yield of the earth. It is the time of harvesting the abundance of crops, of filling our barns with the fat of the land, of preparing and storing the fruit of men's toil and sweat since the scattering of seed. Thanksgiving is the pulse of this season, marking our calendars with the reminder that God is good, and that He "richly and ceaselessly provides us with everything for enjoyment".
Thanksgiving is the noble language of Autumn.
"O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good: for His mercy endureth for ever" (Psalm 107:1)