The Winds Of September

 Autumn arrived fully this week, almost on cue with the Autumnal Equinox.

The trees that lined the avenue I drive to for work went yellow almost over night and suddenly a blanket of yellow leaves just seemed appear on the sidewalk and grass surrounding them.  Yesterday a landscape crew was diligently working to remove them, the first of what likely be several trips there until bare branches clutch at the grey sky.

Our last day about 80 F/26 C happened on this past Monday, leaving descending days of in the 70's and 60's predicted for the next 10 days - which will firmly put us into October.  And yesterday evening the rain blew in and then blew in again this morning, driven by the Winds of September, leaving the sort of day that makes one simply want to stay indoors with a book and an orange cat and grey rabbit and a cup of coffee and read.

There is a certain sad elegance to it all, the closing down of Nature's stall for the Winter.

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The greyness of the sky with the brighter points of leaves reaching their final glory matches the sense of my soul.

This week was a series of conversations - deep conversations that I did not anticipate having with a wide range of people over some rather weighty subjects:  religion, core values, commitment, senses of responsibility to myself and others, the possibility of retirement.  All thoughtful conversations, all conversations that needed to happen at some level.

I had asked God this week for guidance.  What I received was less of the guidance of sunlight Summer Day with a clear and dry path and more of an Autumnal walk, the path present but obscured by falling leaves amid the puddles and and fallen branches, whipped along by a wind that comes from and goes to a place I do not know.

It is not, I suspect, that the guidance is not there.  It are somehow wrapped up in this season of preparation and readiness and the slow shedding of glories.

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Autumn, of course, brings its own joys:  leaves that burn with colour in the sun before their final bow, rains that fly and swirl and recharge the ground, squirrels working hard on their last preparations, a few remaining brilliant sunsets before grey becomes The Colour Of The Day.  It allows - at least for me - a certain focus as well:  the garden will essentially be done, sword training will likely be all indoors.  The earlier dark and cold makes for a convenient excuse to finish the reading and writing that I have chosen as part of the educational life.

And like the shutting down of trees, I now have the strands of conversation and thought to bear with me into the coming Winter, to be mulled upon and sit in silence with like trees under the battering rain and blowing wind.

 And then, like the flowers and leaves, to burst into life and colourful glory in the Spring.