Ah……Finally there is a chance to “feel” Fall. Crisp days and cold clear nights are something we wait for anxiously here in our part of Arizona. While most of the U.S. is dealing with their first snow storms and freezes, we are feeling like October in November. Finally I am getting in the mood for pumpkin pie and chili, and Christmas baking, and warm fires. It’s funny how even though you move away from a place, that place stays with you. I am remembering Northern California and stacking wood with my Dad and sitting on the floor cracking walnuts with my Mom, getting the worn flannel shirt out of the closet for the first time. Endless leaves in profusions of color, wet and soggy from the rain, sticking to everything they touched. Bach’s concerto number 3……which to me only and always means fall.
When I moved here I thought that maybe I would lose the rhythm of the seasons entirely. But I have been here for years, and I have noticed that a pattern of seasons all its own emerged anyway. Fall here means something a bit different than what I grew up with. It means sowing the winter rye if you have lawn, and buying flowers you can’t grow in summer…..There is a rhythm, really, to the whole universe wherever we are, we carry it with us. It’s a part of Gods grand design. There is a steadiness to dawn and dusk, summer and winter……reassurance that all will go on as it has before.
Since I started having a regular morning prayer time, I have noticed a pattern emerge within myself. It feels steady, and right…..it’s as if I am mirroring the bigger pattern that is happening all around me. It’s a way of setting things right in my own world, or rather, laying everything at God’s feet once again, my small offering of praise.
|Tlaquepaque Chapel, Sedona Arizona|
He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8