beneath the autumn chill...

we now wander into the final days of october. autumn broke through our resistance a bit early this year and arrived in a cloud of chill and turning leaves upon september's end. the summer here in the PNW was brief. but i cannot mourn, for this richly beautiful season always stokes my spirit far more intensely than any ray of sun.

traipsing through pumpkin patches, saturday walks through fallen leaves, donning scarves of every fiber and color, and nestling indoors on the couch with a cup of hot apple cider and a roaring fire. what is better, really.

this particular autumn, an additional accessory adorns my daily life--a walking cane. borrowed from my grandmother and previously owned by my great-grandmother, i am in need of its support as i wander through the leaves this year. i re-injured my lower back (sacral lock and torn ligament is the quickest explanation) and my mobility has slowed significantly. not since the severe initial injury four years ago has the pain been so great. i guess i am meant to travel more deliberately, more peacefully, through this season.

life always changes. daily, hourly. yet somehow it still creeps up on us and catches us unaware. the sun bidding adieu as a rainstorm enters the day. a maple leaf casting shadows of green one week and crimson the next. walking swiftly across the street one sunday afternoon. then barely shuffling along on monday with a memory of your great-grandmother in your left hand. picking up leaves that catch your eye to asking your friend to stoop down for you instead. or simply to see them--really see them--and then let them go to wander with the wind's call.

another season, another year of life. i am reminded of that quote that says something like this: 'how we spend our days is how we spend our life.' at first thought, this is difficult to think of right now. after all, i'd rather be jumping in mud puddles than trying to avoid them for fear of falling. but, with every change, there is a lesson if we choose to seek it out. and just because we see the lesson doesn't always mean we truly learn it.

beneath this autumn's chill, a lesson lies waiting for me. out amidst the cold and dampness of spirit. i am tired and wearisome. but i must try again. i pull on a coat of strength, a scarf of grace, and prepare to meet it.

and with the wisdom of my great-grandmother coming to rest in my hand, i take another step toward learning...