Autumn

If I could liken autumn to a woman (Autumn, is, after all, a woman's name), she is the one who leaves (an unintentional pun). She is in the fading phase of a relationship. She's still there, but she is also gone. Her beauty is more achingly sweet because you know your time with her is short. I have my own memories of a time like that (and she was truly beautiful as she said goodbye). I savor those memories because they are the last time I had her, if a man can ever truly have a woman. Because a woman can change like the seasons. You think you know her, but you don't. All you will ever know is she changes, and sometimes without warning. One minute you're walking together, and the next she's gone. Just the memory remains, and you ask yourself who will drive your soul. The only answer is the breeze. The chill on the air reminds you winter is on the way, and autumn is the warning. Winter is a cruel, yet beautiful season. Those who heed autumn's warning will survive. But what else is she saying?

Humans aren't tied to the land like they used to be. Yes, we need what the earth gives us, but we have warmer homes, less stress, and longer lives than our ancestors. So the seasons say something different now. Still, in our DNA, our ancestors' voices can still be heard saying prepare and beware, winter is coming. For me, autumn's voice is calm and collected, much like the voice of a girl I knew. She was beautiful, but I couldn't touch her. Her eyes still shone, but they didn't look at me the same way they did when it was summer. Her voice says I should enjoy these last moments with her but not ask for more. But that's like telling a starving man not to eat. Still, he who loves will ache for her through another winter, and through a thousand more, if necessary, just to see her smile again. There is hope in autumn, just as there is hope in the heart of one who loves. Though autumn means saying goodbye to something, it is not a forever goodbye. Seasons change. That's what they do. Our lives change, too.

Autumn is saying goodbye to the sweet warmth and sunshine of summer, suntans and beaches, and girls in bikinis. Autumn is saying hello to sweaters, layers, the warmth of the hearth, cookies baking, soups, and bread. While it may seem too soon to say such words in other parts of the country, here we saw our first frost in August and our first snowfall September 7. It is time to put away our flesh in favor of staying warm. Our walks are brisker and quicker. Our minds are on home and staying warm.

The sunlight fades faster in the evening now. My internal clock reminds me I am tired sooner. I don't know when I noticed the first change, but the increasing reminders tell me what I fear is true. Winter is coming, and with it my hands sometimes refuse to cooperate, locked by the cold into tense stiffness. I am hungry all the time, my body desperately trying to stay warm. I have a stockpile of facial tissue because I know what other people like me — people with prominent noses — know all too well. The cold makes my nose run. Nothing I can do about it. I can't protect so much real estate. When it gets cold, it drips. The snow doesn't bother me. It covers up the gray and ugly things. The cold bothers me, especially when the wind blows. But there will be time to contemplate winter's short days soon enough. Autumn allows us time to prepare. But also to enjoy its special place on the calendar.

Autumn beckons us with its beauty. The little bushes and plants change color as the nights grow colder, like a switch thrown by an unseen hand. Almost overnight, they change and flare brightly for us in rusts and apricots and golds, announcing their exit from our world and return to dormancy. They are saying goodbye, but only for a while. They will return, but you must be patient.

Autumn is knowing where home is (ideally, it is an A-frame in the woods). It is a man standing at a window, watching the leaves blow off the trees, coffee in hand, and wondering if a moment can be any more perfect. It can. When those leaves pile up, children playing in them remind him of his years doing the same thing. When those leaves are raked and burned or collected or blown away, he is sad, for those leaves left great holes in the sky that allow the cold to penetrate even more. As the days shorten, he is glad because the dark means rushing home to a warm house and warm food and the people he loves.

Autumn means campfires (for those of us who are occasionally outdoorsy), roasted marshmallows, s'mores, faces lit by flames and laughter, coats that smell of wood smoke, our eyes following glowing embers as they rise, all the way, it seems, into the stars above, which seem so close you can almost touch them. The nights are cold, but God gave us fire to stay warm. Will you huddle, like me, around a campfire this autumn? Will you be touched by the warmth of the fire and those gathered around it? Will you see the flames flicker in the eyes of those you love and imagine living forever like this?

Nothing lasts forever. That's what these shortening, ever-cooler days remind us. Like the love of a woman or the flash in the pan that is youth, all things fade. The beauty that flares in nature in these autumnal days tells us God loves us but wants us to know our lives here are short and not to find our reward in this highly-perishable world. It reminds us to look for our eternal home and the One who will forever warm us with His brilliant light. Everything here dies, but there, nothing dies. As I walk along the forest trails alone this fall, my heart will burn for a home I've never seen where no one will ever have to say goodbye, where I can look into the eyes of the only woman I love for all eternity with perfect, uncorrupted love, where I will behold the face of my Savior, where I will gather with my son and listen at Moses' or Isaiah's feet as they expound on things I've read a hundred times. Autumn, like my walks on those forest trails, tells me I am far from home. But I can still enjoy the beauty of what is here as long as God allows. Every day, is, after all, a blessing.

Thank you all for reading. God bless.