Seasons of Life

I always loved the promise of spring until about ten years ago. I loved the promise of life and the energy that thrummed through the atmosphere. I loved the lengthening daylight hours and the almost frantic pace to grab life and to live those moments, but there came a time when my eyes began to see something else. One fall day as I ran through a Colorado Springs park near my house, something totally shifted. My paradigms began to see the beauty in the dying leaves and in the hint of the brisk fall day. Could it be that leaves are the prettiest just before they die? Could it be that people often shine their brightest just before they die young?

Think about it. Leaves fall from the trees. Some of the leaves are green and still full of promise. The wind just carried them away far too early. The red and orange leaves blaze with the beauty of full blossom and color both the sky and ground as they fall. Other leaves fall fully spent. They lie brown and curled having long passed the bloom of promise or beauty.

Life is like that. Some people die before they ever live life. Others die while they are at the peak of their existence and while they are shining so brightly that people often gape in wonder. Still others use everything they are given and live until they are much like the spent curled leaf that flutters in the wind. In the fall, all three stages of the leaf cycle are apparent to the peeping eyes. There is stunning beauty at watching the cycle of life and death unfolding one fall day at a time—one lifetime at a time.

Fall resets my batteries because it simply reminds me that while there is beauty and promise in new life and beginnings, there is also a stunning beauty in the expiration of life. Some lives have more time on the branch and some flutter to the ground far before their time, but those that fall early are often the prettiest of all. They blaze and dot the earth in a quiet shroud of glory. There is a quieting warmth in watching it all unfold. One day I will be the leaf that falls to the ground. One day, I will be the leaf giving way to the starkness of the empty branch who waits for the promise of new life in the spring months.IMG_0632IMG_0633

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