Friday, September 21, 2012

The Tilt of the Earth Toward Autumn

Yesterday I went out too early and  ended up walking in the long, chilly shadows. So today I set out a little later than usual.  By the time I got to the reservoir, the sun had crested the treetops. I sat on the deck with my back soaking up sun. Aaaahhhh.

The water was smooth and sunlit.  Occasional breezes shivered across the surface.  Bright blue sky and feathery clouds admired themselves in the mirror.  A heron flew across, low over the water,  seeming to admire her regal reflection as well.  As I'm peering to watch where she lands, I see there is already a heron in the shallows.  Her neck and long beak form a question mark against a  back-drop of emerald lily pads.

A squawk turns my attention to another heron.  The dead branches she hangs out in are dappled in sun and shade and she's chosen a sunny spot too.  She is in the same question-mark pose as her twin in the lily pads.

Question mark on my left and question mark on my right.  Appropos of the 2012 equinox,  I sit between symbols of uncertainty as the earth tilts toward autumn.

I silently ask these birds what wisdom they have for me, as long as they're raising questions.  I reluctantly close my eyes, fold my legs, lengthen my spine, and breathe.  The sun penetrates my back.  A bee buzzes lazily.  The silence enfolds.  My breath reels in and reels back out, like the whirring of invisible fishing line casting out into the depths.  And from the depths, they answer my query in unison:  Be still.

So I follow their advice, sitting and breathing.  The breath rising up softly ... releasing ... and falling back down,  as gently as the red leaf drifting ... dropping from the hand of the wind onto the pliant water.

In stillness, the questions,  the uncertainties -- which make me so uncomfortable -- transform into possibilities.

The unknown -- which can be scary -- transforms into potential, excitement about what may lie ahead.

In stillness, I can abide questions with openness and wonder; I don't need to scramble for anwsers.

I can resist the turning of the wheel of the year or welcome it.  Because guess what?  Summer is fading into fall whether I approve or not! 

Despite the long shadows and shorter days, a brisk chill runs up my spine, reminding me of the abundant beauty and bounty ripe for  harvesting now.