Today neighbors are preparing for colder days and our much anticipated deep snowfall. Each year as chain saws buzz and axes crack against rounds of Pine and Fir, I can hear families chatting and laughing as wood is carried to its dry, winter shelter. I’m grateful for this time of year and all the Falls that have gone before.
Imbedded in the painting of the leaves below is the following poem. It’s an all-time seasonal favorite of mine passed on to me by a friend. So sorry not to credit the author, but whomever she is I say, “thank you.” (If anyone can identify her, please put her name in the reply box at the end of this post. Thanks.)
She celebrated the sacrament of letting go.
Then orange, yellow and red, Finally she let go of her brown.
Shedding her last leaf she watched its journey to the ground.
She stood in silence wearing the color of emptiness
Her branches wondering how do you give shadow with so much gone.
She stood empty and silent stripped bare leaning against the winter sky.
She began her vigil of trust.
And then the sacrament of waiting began.