After an unusually busy Thursday, I treated myself to another backyard break this morning.  Autumn has finally arrived in this drought stricken state and I am relishing the clouds and cooler temperatures.  There’s a brisk Southeastern wind blowing soft grey clouds across the sky at amazing speeds.  Tomorrow there’s a chance of rain and temperatures only in the seventies; sweet relief from the punishing heat of this summer.

As I sat outside looking and listening, I thought about the patterns in my life and in the world around me, patterns laid down at creation that will continue unaltered until the end of time.  We are in the midst of the fall migration of the monarch butterfly, so anytime I step outside there are a number of them flitting and darting in the breeze, but eventually heading on south to Mexico.  In the spring, they will head north again.  Soon, I’ll hear the sad, strange cries of the Canadian Geese as they too head south for the winter.  I can see a pattern in the tiniest snail shells-perfect circles spiraling toward the center,  the scalloped edge of a leaf on a lowly weed and the alternating blades of grass on the runners of our faded St. Augustine.

Now, in my mid-fifties, I’m also very aware of the patterns in my own life-and in the lives of those I love.  We are born, and progress through the same seasons and times of growth.  We may each do very different things with those times, but if we continue on this earth, we will all move through them just the same, and to the same conclusion.

I want to enjoy this personal autumn season that I’m entering  just as much as I enjoy the autumn of the world around me.  A quieter time of life, bittersweet in some ways, but made richer by the passing of the seasons that have gone before and sweeter by the love of the great Maker of those seasons.  I know I can face the autumn and winter to come with peace and reassurance that they are in His hands, not mine.  All is well.


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