11/5/18 –

A good walk this morning, taking the shorter route because of the cold, but so many fading and falling beauties wrap all around that I stop to get photos and my hands get frozen anyway.

At the lake, salmon swirl in shallow water, dart away from my shadow. The sky is pebbled with layers of cloud, but no breeze stirs yet, so the water is mirror-shiny and calm. The town is quiet. At the little general store, the usual guys hunch over coffee and talk about the world.

In the cemetery, Bodi follows scent trails of deer and I go after him into the woods. Despite the gray sky, so many layers of tan, yellow, tawny trees give off their own light. Today, the leaves are starting to let go – not the fierce, noisy whipping away, that happens in strong winds, but the Little Letting Go – the small sigh of regret, the quiet release, the fluttering down, the final coming to ground of The End after such a beautiful life.

As we all shall follow, in our own seasons of fierce love, of holding on, of sad regret, of fluttering down and coming to ground, still sharing the golden light of our lives even as we fall.