Our resolve for simplicity is renewed in the spring. We cast away our heavy layers and enjoy a new lightness. Windows are thrown open and delight is taken in the things we cannot own.
Smells.
Sounds.
Smiles.
Spring is simply being.
So it is suiting that summer would be a time of
overabundance,
of shameless fertility, and of great wealth.
Vines hang over.
Sweat pours out.
Light lasts longer.
There is so much to learn when the world is new each day.
Nature's choir brings us back to the dance floor. Barefooted walks and sleeping naked, our bodies cannot connect enough with this world.
Summer is wholly being.
In the fall, we eat.
Curried soups.
Pumpkin anything.
Whatever we can fire up in the oven to take the edge off the cooling air.
Breads.
Casseroles, potato and cabbage.
And we drink. Apple cider and fermented fancies.
What cannot be eaten is canned and saved.
Fall is being full, and fully being.
Then the heavy hand of winter slows us down.
Quiets us.Contains us for a season.
If you wait
and listen,
enduring the cold,
you can hear the snow landing, softly.
What else do we have in the winter, save good company?What else do we need but this quiet time of holy being.
Expecting summer's harvest?
Planting in the spring?
Or more. Faith is saving seeds in the fall,
when you are full
and forgetful.
Faith is season after season the same,
and yet an evolution.
I do not know the future, but I know you.
I do not fully know you, but I take you
on faith.
-Renee
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