AS LEAVES SPIRAL IN BURSTS of wind to the ground, the season of autumn nears the exit here in Minnesota.
We are all cognizant of that impending departure. The farmers as they hurry to harvest crops. The squirrels as they gather and hide walnuts. And those of us who still have yards to prepare for winter.
I feel that pressure. To get the leaves raked,
the flowerbeds cleaned, flowerpots emptied,
the tabletop fountain hefted above garage rafters.
I wish for more days of cobalt skies, sunshine blazing warmth onto my back as I rake leaves, stuff them into trash cans.
I wish until I realize that by wishing, I am missing the season. So I grab my camera and turn it toward the maple leaves on the solo tree in our backyard, toward the woods edging our property, even to the neighbor’s bare branched trees.
Of course, I wish I could slow time, grab back summer days, hold onto each leaf stem yanked by the wind. But I can’t.
Every season brings its joys, its sorrow, its light, its darkness. That is a given. I can yearn for another season. Or I can choose to embrace the season in which I am living.
© Copyright 2018 Audrey Kletscher Helbling