It is officially autumn again, and I am so thankful to be alive to experience it! God painted another study in pastels just before the sun rose this morning. I ran outside with my camera and noticed the waning moon still high in the sky. Abby’s fur was beaded with dew and his warm breath reminded me that Alan and I would no longer be swimming around the lake. Tonight we’ll kayak.Like the sun arising, so autumn is arising—not only on our lake, but in my heart! I will turn 63 next week…that’s definitely the fall of life. It’s the time when we start falling too…slowing down, our vigor abating like a waning moon… and inevitably we’re deteriorating. Alan and I have way too many friends who are sick and struggling with illness right now. I stopped to pray and waited until the last whispers of pink surrendered to blue. I love our lake. It’s so peaceful. But, there’s always something happening, too! Usually the great blue herons are pretty tolerant of the mallards, but not this morning! In fact, the waterfowl are all skiddish…I think practicing up for their migration. Brightly colored wood ducks fed among the lily pads…but at a safe distance. Lemon-colored bur marigolds brightened the marshy water’s edge…right beneath my feet. 🙂The last of the loose strife delighted my eyes. I could have lingered forever! Ah, but Abby had been patiently waiting all this time for his morning walk. It was a perfect misty, moisty morning today…so like early autumn! A robin was bursting with song high up in the top of a dead ash tree, and a little downy woodpecker worked tirelessly drilling out grubs near the top of an old snag above the swamp. Deer crossed the lane behind us after they thought we were gone,and Canada geese grazed peacefully in the grassy field. All was well. All is well.Except maybe for the bee on this goldenrod. He appeared to be too cold to move. Here and there the road was sprinkled with bright purple asters and cheery white flea bane. Even some delicate blue flax were still blooming…well past their summer blush.
I marveled at God’s creative genius in the sunrise and the waning moon, the waking lake and woods, the birds and bees and flowers and trees…but there was a little wistful sadness in my heart until I came upon these cherry-red rose hips. I know wild roses burst into glory when June is bustin’ out all over, but they are still beautiful and fruitful in the fall. After all, you can’t make rose hip tea until autumn. So, even though autumn is arising in my life, I can be fruitful in ways that I couldn’t before. Autumn is a beautiful time, and I’m so glad to be alive to enjoy another autumn!
“They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, ‘The LORD is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him’.” (Psalm 92:14-15 NIV)