Friday, October 18 – – Our Nor’easter shook the earth but spared the autumn leaves
The early days of this week, a wind storm hammered New England with 60 mile per hour winds; many people have lost power, and many trees have lost their vertical grace and lie strewn across yards and roads. One friend, while the winds shrieked and we shivered, prepared for yet another storm loss. “The colors have just lately turned their beauty our way and now these winds will probably strip the trees prematurely bare.” Autumn is like that, memories of delicate, breath-taking beauty from Octobers past, whet our appetites. Some years we are too busy with commitments to pause and take in fleeting and winsome beauty.
It would be a shame, I thought during morning prayer today, if all our generous work allowed autumn to slip by us. Wherever you live, in Motown where the colors are breaking open these days, or Colorado, or Sweden, or Dudley, Massachusetts – pause and listen 3 times today. Want to?
john sj
p.s. The weekend might make a great time to bump those listening pauses up to 4 or 5. Have a great weekend.
Today’s Post – “Autumn’s russet colors age . . .”
In honor of the dogwood in our West Philly yard.
{This poem emerged one fall day during my U Penn grad school year c. 1974}
Autumn’s russet colors
Age without solemnity
Earthy and simple, they linger
Linger,
Not for grandeur
Nor from fear of the dust they will become
Their affection for this place
These ripening moments
Even me the beholder
Slows the pace of changing.
Let me be won by this warmth
To slow my chosen pace
To ripen affectionately.
jstsj