Friday, October 19, 2012

Oh...

Oh, the wonder of it all….
I woke to a solitary bird song echoing in the early morning half light. In spring and summer, the birdsong is a Handel Hallelujah Chorus but fall brings YoYo Ma cello solo songs. It seems as if dawn comes subdued and slow, not the quick bright light of summer mornings. The annual Ladybug invasion has begun. The little spotted specks of winged flight use our front porch as a landing field and creep through cracks and crevices to end up in the kitchen sink, on the walls, and underfoot. Grasshoppers are not hopping as high nor as plentifully as they were last week. The bears are bolder this year. Not satisfied with demolishing birdfeeders, they have moved on to trash cans in their search for fattening foods. The apple crisp morning air brings the horses and donkeys out of their stalls jumping for joy, kicking up their heels in gleeful abandon. Traveling salesmen Mallard ducks float on the pond for a night of rest before departing in the morning, headed to their winter homes. The baby turkeys are grown now and indistinguishable from their mamas. In the dusk, the silhouettes of deer grazing on the hill form a silent, still tableau as they pause in their grazing to watch me drive by. Walnuts in their bright green spongy hulls litter the ground and squirrels are gathering them into their dens. The sounds of crickets and locusts are gone now and winter silence is creeping towards us. I love the subtlety of the seasons changing guard. These small signs, not particularly noticeable in their singularity, are a continuing invitation to move on to the next season.
God can be as subtle as the signs of seasonal change. Bear tracks and God tracks mark the passage of mystery in my life. The solo birdsong reminds me that heartsongs continue even in deadness of winter. Deer, poised and alert, are symbols of attentive alertness to what (or Who) is passing by. Canada geese flying through the sky in their distinctive V formation call me to move on, to let go of the lush spring and summer. The squirrel cussing me out for disturbing his nut gathering calls me to do some of my own prep work for the coming grey time. The thickening coats of horses, donkeys, cows, cats and dogs causes me to put on a thick coat of my own… a coat of memories and thanksgiving for all that has been and all that is yet to come. These will keep me warm as winter’s cold comes to Sabbath Rest Farm.
Let me have eyes to see, ears to hear and a song to sing as You pass through my life in this season of settling in. Keep my memories fresh and full so that I may rest in peace by the winter’s fire warmed by your presence in my life. And in the flickering firelight, help me to hold on to hope as I wait on Thee. Amen.