Changing seasons can be messy in nature and in life. Here’s what I observed and reflected on in September 2015. Little did I know that just five years later, that messiness would take on a whole new meaning in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Morning walk, early September
As I walk this morning in early September, I notice lots of changes on the roadside, in the woods, and in the gardens of my neighbors as I pass.
They’re all rather messy!
The roadsides have lost the beautiful blooms of earlier in the summer. The blossoms are shriveled and brown, as are many of the leaves. In fact, going to seed is the order of the day. I’m seeing lots of fallen leaves already, and because of the drought, many leaves are turning straight to brown without displaying the lovely shades of yellow or red we look for in the fall. In the gardens, most of the vegetable plants have finished bearing their produce, and weeds have taken over or, in some cases, everything has already been plowed up, ready for spring planting after a winter of rest.
Changing seasons is a messy time.
This happens in real life too…
It occurs to me the seasons of our lives often get a little messy too as we transition from one to another: from childhood to adulthood, from high school to college, from single to married, from married to divorced or widowed, from young to middle-aged to old.
Change is hard. Painful. Scary.
There’s no getting around that, but thankfully nature gives us a wonderful story that doesn’t end with deterioration and death. There is always another season, another renewal, another day.
This reflection, of course, encompasses my faith in a life after death. It’s a mystery, to be sure. I have no idea what form it will take or what it will look like, but I believe that our souls do not die, and therefore there is always hope.
Should we take action or wait?
Sometimes during these messy times of our lives, we are called to take action. But sometimes we are called to wait, and waiting can be the hardest part of all!
No matter what is going on in your life, you’re always called to take care of your most precious asset—you!
Whatever season you’re in right now, however dark the road may seem right this moment, consider the seasons of nature and know with absolute certainty that just beyond the clouds, the sun is shining.
September 2020 update
As I write this in mid-September 2020, we are in the midst of a COVID-19 pandemic and have been “laying low” and avoiding physical contact with others here in the United States since March. The change of seasons from summer to fall here in Virginia means cold weather will soon be hindering our getting out even more. Regular flu season may be adding insult to injury as we head into winter.
Messiness can occur in projects too. I’m trying to write a book that I’ve been thinking about for years, and right now, I’m wallowing around in the “messy middle,” hoping to find my way out soon.
Ironically, I’m hearing many people say they’ve been inspired to use the “Great Pause” to clean house, literally and figuratively. John and I have certainly been downsizing and decluttering, and that feels strangely liberating. But the emotional impact of COVID-19 feels messy, uncertain, and anxiety-producing. More than ever, I am comforted and inspired by the lessons of Nature and the promises of our faith.
How have you been dealing with the messiness of this season in your life? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below.
Nancy Ruegg
I’ve had similar thoughts about “messiness” myself as I’ve tried to capture a few fall-foliage photos of the trees behind our house. One area offers a lovely scene of burnished gold and crimson leaves–from a distance. But up close, too many dull grey-brown stems and twigs at odd angles spoil the shot. Not sure what the lesson is there. Perhaps, be thankful for the beauty even amidst the unsightly!
Elizabeth Cottrell
Yes, indeed, I think that’s a great message, Nancy! Maybe also a reminder that beauty is fleeting and that we should take the time to appreciate it before it’s gone. I know exactly your frustration as a photographer. My husband is the photographer in our family, and when we realized how gorgeous the afternoon light was on the mountain, I told him to grab his camera and I would drive him around and look for a good photo op. He took lots of pictures, but none of them seemed to capture the color we were seeing with our eyes.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting.
Aprille
As always, a thought-provoking post. What it made me think about is that autumn is the time of year that many seeds are planted as things ripen and complete their cycle. I’ve noticed that even perennials I plant in the fall are bigger and stronger than ones I plant in my spring garden. There’s something about the messiness followed by fallow time that’s vital and develops strength because there’s still life under the snow. I need to remind myself of that on a regular basis!
Elizabeth Cottrell
Thank you for sharing these beautiful observations, Aprille — they are exactly what I was thinking about, and it’s always special to get confirmation that others share those experiences.
Pamela
You say this so lovingly and sagely. Yes, patience is hard during a ‘change,’ whether a change of season or a huge change in our lives. I’m never anxious for summer or fall or spring to end. I try and appreciate each amazing day that the particular season offers. (On the other hand, I don’t quite have that same patience during winter – when I’m anxious for the season to end and bring on spring). But I learned a lesson this year: winter seemed to never end, and yet spring and summer seemed more beautiful than ever. I just had to wait patiently for it, and then I was rewarded. 🙂
Elizabeth Cottrell
I know exactly what you mean about impatience with winter, Pam, and you folks up in the northeast really had a doozy last year. The contrast with California must have been brutal.
On a related note, I remember my grandfather, who was born in 1879, talking about the hard winters in Virginia and how tired they got of potatoes and the things they canned from their garden and how thrilled they were to get the first new vegetables and fruits in the spring and summer. We are so spoiled today with what we can buy at our grocery stores.
Karen R. Sanderson
My friend Linda Hoye cans a lot of her own home-grown veggies and such. How nice it must be to open your own jar of preserved goodies. We are so spoiled by what we can get in the grocery! Can’t imagine a hard winter (like 7 months here in ND) and eating the same thing day in, day out, for all those months!
I too plan to look back on my life, E, and hopefully say, “Man, what a fun ride that was!” I have some regrets – don’t we all? But have learned that it is better to be kind and help others and to support others. It truly gives me a warm fuzzy to know that I’ve been a good person.
Elizabeth Cottrell
Not only have you been a good person, but you’ve overcome a great many challenges, heartaches, and hardships without losing your compassionate nature. That is a huge accomplishment, and you’re an inspiration to me.
Karen R. Sanderson
I still remember my aunt telling me, “the only thing constant is change.” There seems to always be a change in life, jobs and work, new classes, and yes, the seasons. Mom and Ang also told me, it all works out. It might not be the way we want or the way we imagined, but if we just hold on one more day, that breath of fresh spring air will come!
Elizabeth Cottrell
I so agree, Karen, even though I know there are those in the world who suffer and die without ever breathing that fresh spring air…just, I suppose, as Moses never saw the promised land. But it is so important to hold hope up to light our way, and for most, it will be the beacon that moves us in the right direction.
When I am called to the other side and am looking back over my life, I would so much rather see that I lived hopefully and gratefully than cynically and in despair. The end of the road on this side of the veil comes either way, but oh, the journey of one is so much better than the other.