Living In The Pause

We are living in the pause, that gentle space between the seasons. Then, one small but different breeze from some other place stirs us, the trees too. Deep within their roots they tremble with a knowing, not altogether but somewhat fearful, of what is coming. Some leaves readily fall, and one can almost hear their sighs. To me, they are reminiscent of lemmings hurling themselves from cliffs before stopping long enough to ponder what it is that makes them so afraid. If they had but waited a lovely little while they would have witnessed a massive transformation, not without some melancholy but nonetheless magnificent. If they had only held tight to their branches just a bit longer, they would have realized their full potential, turning into brilliant hues of persimmon orange, daffodil yellow, and holly berry red. Do they fear that much the coming arctic breezes? Or do they fear the change they must endure to embrace their beautiful capabilities before returning to the earth and becoming one with the soil once again?

Autumn is a fall for us all, some up, some down. Will you bail at the first sign of brisk, slap-in-your-face changes? Or will you hold tight with a knowing that every season has its own bounty of loss and gain, gaiety and pain? None of us are getting out of here alive, but that's not what matters. What does matter is when the autumns of your life swoop in with their crafty ways, will you fall into despair? Or, will you hold on and wait for your inevitable fall--but with grace--knowing there is a light within you urging you on to give all you have until you give out, down to the very last drops, dregs even, of your unique, exquisite existence?