What beauty can you find in this season of decay?
Where is an ending being marked by a shift of colours?
What things are dying so that other things may be born?
Are your petals letting go to make room for next year’s blossoms?
What is migrating to a new home?
Are seeds surrendering to the wind in order to lay dormant for a season?
There is beauty in this season of decay.
Pause for a moment and savour it.
“I know how to say red in French”
chirped Maddie
fresh from kindergarten
“It’s rouge.”
This morning
biking past the railway bridge
I stopped and stared in awe
at the brilliant leaves
still tenuously clinging to the vine
“I know how to say red,”
I thought
“with no words at all
But, even on a day when the best I can do is sit in front of my big picture window and dream about the day when I actually feel like venturing outside again, I can still find reasons to love this place.
And the number one reason? Seasons. I realize that some of you are feeling mighty glad right now that you don’t have seasons that are quite as DISTINCT as ours are, but without winter, I can’t imagine enjoying spring as much as I do. Each season brings new surprises, a whole new wardrobe, and something interesting to bring delight to my imagination.
To show you a little of the variation, all of the following pictures were taken in front of my house. This is what I have to look forward to in the next twelve months.
SPRING
SUMMER
FALL
And just in case you want to know more about where I live, here’s a little something I dug out of the ol’ Fumbling archives…
I live…in a simple bungalow with an attached garage full of bicycles and a red car in the driveway.
I live…with my husband and three daughters.
I live…just a block from the mighty Red River.
I live…within easy walking distance of a grocery store, a drugstore, a dollar store, a bank, two gas stations with convenience stores, a GREAT wine store, Licks ice cream, a poster store, and a few other stores I’ve never been in yet.
I live…in the shade of a giant maple tree.
I live…within easy biking distance of St. Vital Park.
I live…in a house with ugly multi-colour carpeting in the basement, and a kitchen that’s too small for a family of five.
I live…next door to a bunch of university football players who are polite and friendly and don’t party too much.
I live…within easy biking distance of Ten Thousand Villages, the best store on earth.
I live…across the street from a housing co-op and the daycare centre my kids don’t have to go to anymore.
I live…just a 5 minute drive from the edge of the city and open sky and prairie fields.
I live…in the province where I was born.
I live…in a country that is known for its politeness, its cold north, its peacekeeping, and its multiculturalism.
I live…about 10 blocks (which is much too close) away from a shopping mall.
I live…in a house with a rotting deck and a play structure that’s almost too small for my children.
I live…within biking distance of my church.
I live…in the house with the wooden deck chairs in the front yard instead of on our deck, because we like to sit and watch the world go by.
I live…close enough to my sister and brother-in-law and little niece that we get to see them every week.
I live…further away from my brothers and their families than I’d like.
I live…closer to my mom than I used to, but further than I’d like.
I live…far from where my mother is right now.
I live…close enough to Marcel’s family that we can see them nearly every week.
I live…in a bedroom that has one dark burgundy wall, and three white walls that I wish I’d painted burgundy too.
I live…just far enough from my office that I get a good workout biking there.
I live…across the river from the University I attended nearly twenty years ago.
I live…with contentment and enough of almost everything.
I live…in a country where my children can grow up without fear or discrimination or poverty.
I live…in a world that’s getting smaller, but that’s big enough to offer me lots of places and opportunities to explore.
I live…in a house that’s never quite as clean as I’d like it to be, but clean enough to be comfortable.