Fall is in the air.

Autumn's Blessing

“At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth, in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honey-sweet where you feel it touching the first sounds. Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost.” Rainer Maria Rilke (Letters on Cezanne)

This is the first morning that has a hint of fall in it. The humidity is down, and the air feels open and easy to breathe. The changing of the seasons is always a time of remembrance—of times past, both happy and sad. When major losses come at seasons change, we remember that loss every subsequent year. I once had a client who responded to spring, that happiest of all seasons, with dread. She had a depth charge memory from early childhood of her father's death—all the fields had been plowed, ready for planting. Forever more, even into her old age, turned earth triggered a welling up of sadness within her. Fortunately, we associate seasons with happy events, too.

But for most of us here in the deep South, autumn is a breath of fresh air, a blessed relief from the heat. I'm sure Californians feels the same—perhaps the wildfires will subside and they will have a season of peace. My friend, Bud, heads off to Acadia next week; his annual 3-week pilgrimage to assist in the closing of the park. His excitement is palpable. The allure of the Maine coast is a beacon calling to him all year long. It is what he will remember most about autumn for the rest of his life.

Acorns pelt my roof like bird-shot this morning, and there are leaves on the grass in need of raking. I hope you feel autumn coming wherever you are. Every season has its own way of blessing.

                                                    In the Spirit,

                                                          Jane