Seasons

As the last of the warmer seasons leave us, we suddenly feel the cold reality of life, moving swiftly by like a sudden rushing wind. And as the memories of our liveliness, so suddenly, fade to pale browns and greys, the bite of winter's breath reminds us that the old season is gone, and that its time to let go and face the even greater, frosty horizon. So too in my life I feel the sudden plunge that turns to a fast free-fall, as if my soft, leafy landing had vanished and all that remains is the deep and long abyss of simply living.

And there are times it seems that the elements of winter, such as deep chill of a quiet hush, and the crackling of frost as it envelopes us, all too quickly takes over the place that we once felt the warmth of the season we grew too used to being in. And like a thief in the night, the bite of winter has silently changed our surroundings, stolen what was left of our beautiful summer, and left us with the cold, unending night. But stepping into a new season is never easy, especially when the evergreen are all too fond of reminding us that we're simply out of place. Nothing more than bits of twine and twigs, without the lush of the green we once were clothed with, and completely fruitless in a season we suddenly realise we do not belong in.

But the truth that rings out is that with winter comes the rain, and the deep silence required to mourn the passing of a good season. A chance to rebuild and to regrow for the harvest yet to come. For there is no room for new beginnings, without letting go of the past. And there cannot be growth after a harrowing winter, if we're weighing ourselves down with the memories of a summer's past. So I'm appreciating the warmth I'm blessed with through the frost, to endure me beyond the winter till spring comes at last.