It's early October and I sit watching the leaves, the needles, and the seeds descend to the earth and to the river. (Now I understand why my father said that Fall was his favourite season. And also why the season is called ‘Fall,’ I’m pretty dense.) The maple leaves float or flitter or tumble and skid. The needles from nearby fir trees shower down like lightly landing raindrops. And dervish ash seeds spin and sweep from the limb that was their home to the bosom of Mother Earth, their new home where they bring the promise of new life.
This bodymind is also approaching its own Fall season. As I turn 65 years old this is the beginning of the Autumn of life and like the Autumn air, internally there is a vibrant yet gradually increasing humuslike companionship in the fibers, in the cells. Sitting here, basking in this fine October day, it all feels so... natural. Knowing this to be a part of life, I hope we can all be like the leaves, the needles and the seeds of the forest and of the Fall. I hope we can all close our flight in the loving arms of a warm and welcoming earth or find the river that will take us to the shimmering shoreless sea.