Migration To Winter

By Chelle Stockman

 

            Outside the ravens announced their presence and with tails swishing up and

down, the squirrels occasionally paused to watch me throw nuts on the grass below. I love the cooler mornings and I love waking to the poofy clouds or the misty morning fog.  Moistened leaves weep silently before hitting the ground.  I’m reminded of my walks with my sons in their earlier years.  We would gather leaves and look at their veins beneath the microscopes.  I could mourn the lost innocence of their pre-grammar school days but just as the glowing colors of autumn show richness of hue, my heart warms in anticipation of what they will become.

            Suddenly, high up above, nomads in flight; the geese made their journey to their next destination singing their song before winter moon shines down upon us all.  My heart began to dance and I realized that life is coming full circle.  While autumn signals the dying off of earth’s bounty, I was filled with an incredible awe.  Though the air had a chill, I was warmed from the inside out; my heart a hearth of brilliant embers; and in an instant, the geese were gone.

            On my drive to work, I opted to listen to music instead of the normal political rhetoric I dine on every day.  Even the music has mellowed rich with resonant sound; no blaring banging summons forcing me to drive faster, work harder, or be more than is expected of me.  How odd it is that when the music is slower, it becomes more intense; and so it was with me.  I found myself slowing down and by the time I got to work, I was focused, yet overcome by a potent serenity. Out of the fogged morning, I was rewarded with uncommon clarity.

As I walked through the door where I work, the day seemed to pause, softening the task load I was greeted with.  Just as autumn signals the harvest of the fruits of labor, I plowed easily through the last set of bills with money left over for the first time in a long time.  All this past year’s toiling yielded proceeds to be stored for the coming lull during the winter months.  For me spring was an unkind genesis but thankfully, autumn has terminated the hellish beginning allowing me to enjoy a kinder conclusion.

So many people I know love the spring.  To them it means pretty flowers and birth, a transformation from the blighted landscape of the winter; while most loathe that winter which forces them indoors, sequestered from the bustle of life.  Depression overtakes many during the winter months and some panic as early as autumn because they know winter is only a few months away.  For me, autumn is sobering.  My senses are no longer sullied by the commotion of spring or the sweat of summer because for me the real living of life and the savoring its fullness begins in autumn. It is a time of reverence, not mourning. It is the end to hurried bedlam which inspires resplendent reflection upon what was and what no longer is and thanksgiving pours from my soul as I leave all my toiling behind.

William Cullen Bryant said, “Autumn, the year’s last loveliest smile.”  So powerful is autumn’s smile it shall carry me through winter’s solitude.  Yes, thankful I am for what this season gives to us; in all of its splendor, the most promising reprise.  Happy days of fallen leaves to you all.