My bare feet are quite happy on the cold stone of the shady back patio. Birds and crickets are chirping, and I’ve a warm drink to sip. The sunshine is casting intricate shadows across the yard, rorschach shapes formed by the leaves, which are toying with changing color as the summer toys with becoming fall.
Light and dark.
For many, the autumnal equinox is not as big a deal as the sudden and drastic time change that comes here in a few weeks. For others this gradual shift from more daylight to less has been on our radars for weeks, and these days surrounding the Autumnal Equinox, equal light and dark, are quite powerful. The days of balance are a gentle beckoning to examine what’s to come.
Light and more dark.
We still hear the laughter of children playing outdoors and appreciate the the goldenrod’s blooms, while also aware of the shrinking cicada symphony and the extra effort required to navigate the pitch-black of early morning.
We still feel the warm sunlight on our face, while also aware that the serotonin boost provided by the fire-in-the-sky won’t be this available for much longer.
We still rest gratefully in the hammock, while also aware that backyard comfort and recharge will be challenged in the near future.
Less light and more dark.
We realize we’re soon to be asked to hibernate. To slow, to feel and to reflect in a way that’s different than that of the active and fiery summer. As we move into Autumn, we are invited to witness nature’s transformation around us. Asked to contemplate the leaves changing and releasing to the ground as nutrients for the earth. We are invited to ponder our own aging and compostability.
Dark and light.
In the Fall we celebrate our harvest and good fortune, while at the same time preparing for the call to still.
We feel, allow, surrender, release.