A couple of days ago, as I turned over the September page on my calendar, a beautiful image of purple trees greeted me. Just like that, Autumn was here.
Living in Toronto, I first became aware of the beauty of this season. A seed so deeply planted that it took it over a decade to manifest itself. So intrinsically entwined with the truth of who I am that its revelation was tied up with my own. Almost in a gasp, as if it were a cadence to a forgotten song, I heard myself saying, Autumn is my favourite season.
There is a tremendous magnificence in the way that every tree and each leaf gives in to the power of nature as it moves through them. Trusting, like a child, that only wonder lies in the next moment. A surrender so absolute that only freedom is the answer. It feels to me like the finale of an epic performance, where each individual rises to create the culmination of a great story and just beyond the last note of the orchestra, a place of shimmering silence, where love collects and reminds us of who we are.
This is how love unveils itself through Autumn; in the soft whispers of a bountiful life; through the richness of the colours that have made up our journey and in the yielding of what has been, to lead us back home.
Where’s the separation? The leaf that falls will one day, become the tree that gave birth to it, just as the tree that remains knows the life it brought forth will return one day to transform it. Different faces of the One.
One eternal celebration.