I can smell it. Cool, fresh, tingly, wheaty. Fall is coming. Chasing after the warm sun on the horizon as each day is shorter and shorter as the year approaches a close. I smell the silage being cut, the ground staying moist, the pollen shedding, the impending harvest of corn. The blessing of rain in the last few weeks served to make my sense more aware. Fall is coming.
As the earth dies I am not only reminded of the beauty that is found in death, but of the promise of life given in the spring. The brilliant reds, yellows, oranges, browns explode across the landscape in my vision and once again I am reminded of God’s creativity. Of his love for the land, for us. For what other reason would he want to show us those colors, that beauty? To remind us that with every death there can be new life. And we must find the beauty in both.
When I’m cold and alone
All I want is my freedom and a sudden gust of gravity
I stop wailing and kickingJust to let this water cover me, cover me
Only if I rest my arms, rest my mind,
You’ll overcome me and swell up around me.
With my fighting so vain,With my vanity so fought, I’m rolling over
‘Cause in just the same way
That the stream becomes swollen,
Swollen with cold up over the ground,
When my heart draws close to the close of Autumn