Bright blue skies awaited me for this morning’s jaunt (I didn’t catch the sunrise today). It seems, at least to me, that pretty skies should be coupled with mild temperatures and a lilting breeze.
That misconception quickly faded after leaving the warmth of my house—this November day isn’t playing around: temperatures in the mid-20s and a mild but biting breeze. The sunshine beckoned me to give the day a chance anyhow.
On days like this, the cold slices through my layers. My face, knees, and ankles are especially tender against the constant bite.
The route I took today led me along the edge of a small pond. The shallow sides crusted with a paper-thin layer of ice, the first I’ve seen this season. It looked like crinkled plastic. Three ducks swam in the deeper, unfrozen part of the pond. I wondered if they were avoiding the inevitable migration trek or if they had already traveled from someplace much farther north.
Few people braved the morning. But people are generally now in business mode, with no unnecessary lingering outside; this new purpose contributed to the delicious quiet of the morning.
As I made my way back down my street, I savored the last of fall’s work on the color-laden leaves. Most were crunching under foot but some still grasped to branches above.
One tree in particular still held at least half of its leaves, all crinkled and greenish-yellow. Perhaps the cold snap awakened the tree to the new season now in charge, for the leaves were falling steadily around me. The leaves made a crunchy tinkling sound as they quickly piled up around the trunk’s base.
Standing beneath this leafy rainfall, I closed my eyes to take in the sensation of leaves tumbling down all about me. It felt rich and full and was made more glorious by the sound of leaves dropping to onto leaves.
Now, as I look from the warmth of my home to that tree, most of the leaves have released their grip. The branches stand naked, barren. The tree is now ready for the harsh season ahead because the leaves have provided the nutrients needed to survive.
The pleasure of watching creation in action speaks peace to the soul, and I am reminded that the world is in motion and I am merely part of it. My life fits in as God has made it to. Seasons cycle as needed to bring growth and stature and an increased capacity for life.
Sounds much like the work God has done even in the heart of this creature.
Here’s to this season’s work, in all of creation.