The leaves are falling from the walnuts in the backyard today in showers of pale gold; I like it that they shed their raiment before the other trees–it only heightens the sense of anticipation abroad. And though the temperature will undoubtedly top 85 later on, early this morning I caught the unmistakable sweetness of woodsy decay in the air that is the essence of September to me.
Here is a little poem from dear old Streams in the Desert that expresses my desires for quiet living. It is a good word as autumn approaches, espousing a much-needed contemplative season in my life…
I need wide spaces in my heart
Where faith and I can go apart
And grow serene.
Life gets so choked by busy living,
Kindness so lost in fussy giving,
That love slips by unseen.
I want to make a quiet place
Where those I love can see God’s face,
Can stretch their hearts across the earth,
Can understand what spring is worth,
Can count the stars, watch violets grow,
And learn what birds and children know.
Birds and children know that moments are precious, that a loving Father watches over them, that life is a gift of wonder. Adults need reminders at intervals, but what creative means God can employ to awaken us. Falling leaves, scents that stir us with the joy of blended familiarity and change, a slight shifting of the afternoon shadows…