The numerous shades of green are fading. They are not as bright and luminous as they were in early May and June. The periwinkle of the Wild Chicory and muted white of the Queens Anne’s Lace are fading, replaced by fields and hedges of woodland sunflowers – their bright faces looking to the sun for nourishment and life - and I think just because they can.
The leaves of the walnut trees in my backyard are yellowing and falling – making a mess everywhere. Not to mention the walnuts themselves – way too many for even the enthusiastic squirrels to eat.
And then there are the maple trees – already turning from spring green to autumn orange and red. Brilliant they way they do that!
Transitions – from summer to fall – it actually began about 10 days or so ago – but now it is more obvious – summer is dying down and autumn is taking over…soon the weather will be cool – frosty nights with warm days – pumpkins on the porch and hay bales lining sidewalks everywhere.
And as I drive along the river today, the water glimmering, mirroring the canopy of trees along the way, gliding from somewhere in Wisconsin to the Mississippi River, I’m well aware of this change ( I know – we Lutherans don’t like it much!). And there is a change in me as well. Transitions – a moving from one way of being to another. From one way of life to another. From one relationship to another. Change – transition – it happens in nature, it happens in all of our lives; it happens.
I, too, am in transition. From married to widow. A couple to single. From pretty much carefree to mourning. And don’t tell me about changing from sadness to joy – or mourning to dancing. I’m not there yet.
Transitions – we all go through them – every milestone of our lives is a transition – baby to child – to adolescent to teen – to 20 something to married with 2 ½ kids, a station wagon (well, maybe now it’s a mini-van) and a dog. And we all go through one like this – for those of us married or in committed relationships anyway………which is many of us.
But somehow, at least this week, that doesn’t help much. I’m stuck this week, stuck in the ‘why me?’ And yet I know the answer – why not me? Marriages end – we all die – no one gets out alive…. Even in our Biblical stories, nothing is static – change is constant (there’s another platitude/cliché for you…)
Even the dog is making life difficult – he is still adjusting - but I’m tired of his nonsense too.
So how long does it take, this transitioning? Hunter has been with me for 11 months and still has ‘issues’. I have been without Glenn for 79 days - and I still have ‘issues’.
Will Hunter and I ever not have issues? Will we ever make this transition to whatever is next, successfully (whatever that means)? Will we ever be able to turn sadness to joy and mourning to dancing? I certainly hope so – for Hunter’s sake – and mine – but at least today I have my doubts.
The landscape around me will do what it is designed to do – fall will arrive in due course – then the snow will fall and cold will prevail. Mother nature will make sure that her transitions will take place as they aught; on time (hers) and with as much fanfare as she deems necessary.
But for me? And Hunter? This week, this day, this moment, I wonder.
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