Just like people, seasons come and go. They are the narratives of life. People do not always come back, but season do. They come back with the same beginning, promises and metaphors. They come back parallelling our nature.
September arrived and along it brought its winds and rainy. One day, I knew it was summer and the next, I saw autumn arriving. It has returned to us. Autumn stands for transition, colorful places and stories with characters. We pull out our flannels and woolden socks and sip our ciders or hot cocoas. We walk the streets while enjoying the crisp air above us, heightening our senses and keeping us aware of the changes in the world.
At night, we breathe in the smell of burning firewood and chase days when the sun hangs high. A season ago, the sun could turn out to be too much for us to handle. But now, we pray for some of time on days. Apple and pumpkins are what people seek. Autumn sweets and spices play on our tongues.
Rainy afternoons are perfect and we get lose in books. It does not matter if it’s for pleasure or studying. We wear layers and cover with blankets as the sun dips below in the horizon earlier with each day. We embrace reminders that autumn is with us and that it will stay for a little while longer.
I suppose we want to embody each season. And that makes sense. We need to become each season, autumn in this case, to understand what it’s trying to tell us. And once we see it through, it will depart and come back again. Because you see, seasons come back with wisdom to impart.
