Seasons...

Summer is over. Yeah, I know that it technically doesn't end until the Winter Solstice, or whatever, but you can "feel it," that Fall is coming, even with the 90+ degree days we've had here early in September. I could be one of those perpetual Fall people. It just has to be my favorite season. I'm married to one of those "I love the seasons" people. Anytime I've even hinted at the idea of moving to a more "stable" climate upon retirement, it gets nixed. Instead, I'm getting psyched about the concept of watching the snow fly, knowing that I don't have to go out in it, if I don't want to. I'm not meaning to "diss" Spring here, as it is the most "spiritual" of all of the seasons (things coming back to life, new growth, longer days with more light). But it is also the season that seems to blip by so fast--too fast--so I try not to get too attached to it.

I wonder if they had seasons in the Garden of Eden? If so, I guess Adam and Eve had a bad Fall. I'll just leave that there...

I do like the human parallels to how trees weather the seasons. (For you biology types, I'm speaking of the deciduous variety.) In the Summer, they are waving in the breeze, leaves firmly attached ("buff"), adding to the life of the tree via photosynthesis. Then comes Fall, and the leaves begin to wither and fall off, littering the ground as spent castoffs. The tree itself must wonder what is happening to it; they begin to look a bit bald, with a few leaves hanging on until the bitter end. Then comes winter, and the tree is basically a spectator, blown cold by the chilling, Winter wind, and with branches reaching up like praying hands, hoping that somehow, better days are ahead. Finally comes Spring, and buds form. Then come the new leaves and those seed pods. I figure those little "helicopter" things that cover our decks, stick to our dewy cars, and clog our gutters are the tree's way of showing off that it is alive and wants to be noticed--kind of like a teenage thing.

Of course, if you live in a place with one climate--like Arizona--the "trees" are covered with nasty needles and spines, basically announcing "I'll be here for a hundred years or so--bug off!"

Human seasons. Hmm... Turning 64 a couple of weeks ago reminded me that age is a progressive thing, and quite linear. Like it or not, my life--and yours--has seasons, and for me, the Fall is coming on. I guess if the trees can handle it, so can I. Even as I cringe when I see a huge tree uprooted after a violent storm, so I shrink back when someone younger than me falls, prematurely, into the arms of God. I have always struggled with funerals and memorial services for individuals younger than me, and in the few cases (thankfully) where I have led or participated in a service for a very young person, I may go for weeks, asking the "why" question and pondering my own efficacy, even as I grieve for and with the family. I guess we are better off living more like the trees--make hay in the boost days of Spring, have a blast in the Summer, dig in for the long haul in the Fall and enjoy the pumpkin spice of life, knowing that the Winter is coming for us all. Faith reminds us that Winter will not last forever--it's just a season. This, too, shall pass, as they say.

And then next year Medicare eligibility hits, and all of this philosophical "balance dance" of mine will need a new narrative! Stay tuned, Yinz...