Each and every year, I come to believe more and more that autumn is the season that teaches us the most about this precious life that each of us so graciously hold. I have always found that this season’s lessons stem from its stunning vibrancy to its quiet belongings, from its pure stillness to its elegant nature. I humbly and joyfully await its arrival more than any other season, so much so that when it visits again, I feel newly alive.
Autumn, I find, is a season that welcomes true solitude, and it is in this solitude where I seem to thrive the most. It is the kind of stillness I do not find myself running from, but the kind I find myself running to. During each of its brisk, sweet, and oftentimes cloudy mornings and evenings in the quietest of woodlands, I walk amidst the shedding of all I once knew and all I once held. Here, I fall curious to the possibility of a new tomorrow. Walking alone in the natural world, in many ways, does not feel lonely to me in the slightest. It seems inviting, promising, and ever-so trusting.
In these quiet moments, I find that nature paints its own story and writes its own poetry through rhythms of wilting and descending amber leaves on trees that once were blossoming, yet are now ready for the falling of the old and the welcoming of the new. I notice that in the reflection of foliage across heavenly landscapes, I sense the reflection of my own nature — a nature that is welcoming to the reaping and sowing of newfound blessings. To me, autumn seems more like a season of the heart than anything else — a heart that finds harvest in the vows of breathtaking beginnings.
It is during this season that I reflect most on all I have learned in this blessed life. I remember the seasons of heartache I walked through and emulate the beliefs I now hold onto so dearly. I remind myself of the truth that there is beauty in becoming someone you never thought you would become. There is bravery in living a life you never thought you would live. There is life found on the other side of all you felt was unsurvivable.
If only we were to listen ever-so carefully, there is a stillness we can hear through the fawning foliage that becomes the most stunning lyrics of any Godly season. It teaches us that there can be brightness found even in the most profound of valleys. It shows us that there is always light present at the end of weary roads. It gifts us the opportunity to believe in second chances, the goodness of others, and the hope of our futures once again.
In the unfolding of all we once knew comes a stunning offering of newness and a promise for a courageous beginning. What I have learned most ardently is that it is our honor to welcome it all with an inviting heart, all so we can discover hope again as we do in the turning of an unbent leaf, which ever-so gently mimics the turning of a page in a new story.