November 22, 2012

Doorway to a new season

I love this time, the opening of a new season, stepping through the doorway into another world like the discovery of the wardrobe that led to Narnia. All seasons feel this way to me, the way the soul grasps the significance of the slight turnings of the seasons before my rational mind attends to it. The pause as summer considers leaning into fall, of the new greens and muddy achievements of spring, of summer stretching out long and lean like a cat waking as spring wanes. And this, the doorway opening in November and I see the bones of trees again, the gray cool tone to the light thrown across the walls as curtains are pulled wide, the way the mind settles back, stirs the sediment of old thought and thinks, ah, right, it is time for this now. There is a gratefulness in winter, perhaps it is just the appreciation of warming blankets and sweaters, of steeping mugs of tea, of yellow light from the kitchen window as you pull into a dark and frosty driveway. But I think it is more - I think we feel what waits ahead, a necessary ending of all things, and winter graces us with the knowledge that there is beauty in such endings, there is such beauty that perhaps there is no need to hold on to whatever we might fear. There is so much to be grateful for. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

10 comments:

Joan Perry; Sidewalk Curator said...

Stopping by to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving!

Anonymous said...

Beautifully expressed my friend, beautifully expressed. Love to you and yours on this, the simplest of holidays! Joan M

Bill said...

I just like winter because it kills all the damn bugs.

Nan said...

After reading your lovely, pensive post, I was about to write when I read Bill's comment and laughed right out. Isn't that the TRUTH! Walking on the lawn without checking legs for ticks. Sitting outdoors without noseeums biting. Ah, bliss.
And I do love the winter. My childhood memories are so often set in winter. Looking out at the town across the river and all the early morning smoke coming from the many chimneys.

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Susan Moorhead said...

Story of my life, Nan. Everytime I am waxing poetic, that Bill! Good thing I love him ( husband of 28 years!).
And we are finally playing on our outdoor ping pong table now that the bugs have fled. We just have to get Tucker, our dog, to stop biting dents in them :)

WOL said...

Hope you laughed too much, hugged too much, ate too much and enjoyed every minute of it entirely too much!

Mitzi said...

Beautifully said!!

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