But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness. The sun warms my back instead of beating on my head . . . The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart from the intense midsummer relationship that brought it on.
It is dark now, at an hour when it once was light.
Seasons change and we learn to let go and look ahead.
Another September arrives before we think we are ready for it, but we find that we are ready for it nonetheless.
With or without summer’s gifts, we would have still arrived at this moment when intensity gives way to rest.
Treasure isn’t found in cacophony but in stillness, and the change of seasons points to truth.
It takes a few Septembers before we see this, but when we do we wonder how we missed it for so long.
We find a balance that hold us steady.
We find wisdom.
I find myself complaining about the weather in North Dakota more than I praise it, but September is pretty awesome. I’m a fan of fall, and wish it would last a little longer here. We have been experiencing cooler nights and more comfortable temps during the day, and it’s still okay to go out with a T and shorts if you want to. I noticed the trees turning a week or so ago, and I like to see that, because it just looks pretty. It’s mostly just yellows and some golds, but it’s still pretty. But then, probably, in about a month, we may be getting our first snow forecast, and I dread that!
ND does have it hard in winter, not unlike my beloved province of Saskatchewan. Here in BC, I’m hoping for a long and leisurely fall with no whisper of winter until—well, until it is officially winter in December. One can hope.