Dear Autumn,
Thanks for your gentle reminder of my connection to the prairie that surrounds me. I may be busy and distracted with the obligations and to-do lists of my modern world, but you’re here, again, to connect me with the rhythm of nature.
I smell the falling leaves, see the bright colors of the squashes and fall sunflowers, hear the sound of birds discussing plans for migration, and feel the earth moving through this time of harvest and bounty.
I breathe deeply, filling my lungs with crisp morning air as I greet the sunrise. The space between my in-breath and my out-breath allows me to exchange my resistance for trust, and I slow down, noticing the magical space in between, where everything is as it should be.
Ancient peoples wisely saw the seasons as a metaphor for our lives. We pass through times of birth, growth, maturity and transition. You teach me that now is time to appreciate the gifts and treasures of my garden, to put aside a bit for the coming winter, and to stay curious about what’s to come.
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