When I think of autumn, my mind conjures up vivid images of trees bursting with orange and red hues, and the fiery bouquets of flowers lining the tables at the market.In the mornings, a dense fog blankets the treetops in the skyline behind my home like a woolen shawl. The atmosphere is steeped in stillness and a potent calm that seems to settle all around us. Cozying into our socks and sweaters, the cold creeps in and the daylight grows scarcer. We turn up the heaters, or light fires to keep the chill at bay. The air is filled with the sweet and smoky fragrance of burning firewood from nearby chimneys or bonfires.
I also think of endings, of decay, of Death. The cyclical nature of humans, flowers, and trees.
In the fall, I view Death in the fondest way possible, like an old friend, come to greet us again. The reaper of autumn is a soft velvet shadow, who lovingly sends the leaves tumbling into the air, one by one. Sickle in hand, It threshes the flowers with an invisible blade, and they bend their backs slowly toward the ground. All that falls to the earth fills the soil with richness, and life sleeps there in the dirt until the next spring.
This year's leaves and summer blooms may have ended their tenure, but they, along with everything else on Earth, are part of an endless cycle. Humans perceive life endings as finality, but in reality, endings are the beginning of something new. We are not excluded from these cycles. The seeds someone may have planted in life can bloom long after they are gone. A seed can be anything - an idea, a kindness, a song, a painting, or a child - and all things can be planted into this earth to live again.
You are part of a cycle that began so long ago, comprising hundreds of lives and hundreds of deaths. You have collected millions of seeds that you will use to create your own to sow. Nothing on this mortal plane is ever gone in complete totality. In nature, from death, comes life. We always live on. Where leaves and stems have fallen, something will grow.