One Fall Day

This morning, I stepped outside at the usual time, just before 7 a.m. and I stood stock still when the unseasonable chilled air hit my skin. I filled my lungs with it, and my entire body cooled. It was the first breath of fall, and it woke me whole.

This summer has been a hard one for all of us. It’s been hard on our plants, which are farther behind in production. It’s been hard on our farmers, who are breathing in smoke and heat. It’s been hard on our earth, which has large fires raging and scars from fires past.

This was the first weekend I got to go camping. I backpacked to a yurt with a group of women, and we trekked first through a thunderstorm that had cold rain and hail. The next morning though, we were rewarded with the first clear blue skies we’ve seen in a while and bright, clear starry nights.

When I saw the clear blue of this morning and felt the cold air in my lungs, I was reminded of a Mary Oliver poem that, to me, embodies the anticipation of fall in so many ways. I’ll reprint it here for you in celebration of the season to come:

Snow Geese by Mary Oliver

Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!

What a task

to ask

of anything, or anyone,

yet it is ours,

and not by the century or the year, but by the hours.

One fall day I heard

above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound

I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was

a flock of snow geese, winging it

faster than the ones we usually see,

and, being the color of snow, catching the sun

so they were, in part at least, golden. I

held my breath

as we do

sometimes

to stop time

when something wonderful

has touched us

as with a match,

which is lit, and bright,

but does not hurt

in the common way,

but delightfully,

as if delight

were the most serious thing

you ever felt.

The geese

flew on,

I have never

seen them again.

Maybe I will, someday, somewhere.

Maybe I won't.

It doesn't matter.

What matters

is that, when I saw them,

I saw them

as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly.

As we start to see signs of the coming season, I hope you will take time in your gardens to see the beauty that’s there in each moment. Experiencing delight in my garden, as if delight is the most serious thing I’ve ever felt, is what keeps me coming back to it.

I hope that this summer season, though difficult, has been full of moments where you’ve held your breath to stop time. After all, our time with each season is only ours by the hours. Spend it in joy, awe and delight.