Seasonal Changes

The wind is whipping the tree in the front yard, and fall weather is in the air. I love this season and want to be outdoors all of the time. Our tree reminds me of how lucky I am. Many years ago, thirty-five to be exact, when I was married with young children and we had only one car, I would take my ex to work if I needed the car to take the kids to a doctor appointment. We would drive down the street I now live on, past this house which always caught my eye. In fall, the huge maple tree three doors down made me catch my breath. It towered like a coloful umbrella reaching into the sky, a beautiful autumn masterpiece. How I wished I could live in this house, on this street in this part of suburbia instead of South City. I fell in love with the truck farm which stretches the whole block down the west side of the road. Instead of ten or twelve houses across the street to gawk at, I would oogle acres of vegetables and beds of pansies, and hear cars honking constantly at the two old farmers as they worked their fields.

In the late summer of my life, happily remarried, my second husband and I bought the house I had always desired, in the neighborhood I wanted, down the street from the breathtaking maple tree I loved, across the street from the small farm which captured my attention everytime I passed by. For the past fifteen years, I have been so lucky to be able to sit outside on a main street and watch traffic pass by and the farmers at work. Just beyond their property, the flow of interstate traffic hums.

In the autumn of my life, I sit outside and contemplate my blessings. I think I have figured out one of life's secrets: patience.

The farmers, now in the winter of their lives are unable to plant a crop, and the fields have gone to weeds, and the passing cars no longer honk their horns at the old boys who used to tend their fields from sun up to sun down. As the seasons change, I feel the winds shifting. It is not a cold, harsh, frightening wind; it is warm and comforting. I can only hope that my children and grandchildren, who are always in search of more-more-more right NOW, can learn to slow down, be patient and wait. Gifts are abundant and waiting.