Golden seasons and Golden years

I have always loved everything about Autumn. It just seems to me that it is a calm season. It is a time when everything seems to move at just a bit slower pace. Spring is frantic with sprouts and buds, the return of birds and new life in every way.

Summer is a wonderful "happening" of all sorts of activities. It is full of all sorts of possibilities and a joyous celebration of life.

And then comes glorious Autumn. It is full of sounds and smells that only Autumn knows. It is brilliant colors, wonderful mellow sunrises and sunsets. It the sound of dry leaves beneath your feet. It is the smell of dust and dry foliage. It is a time of preparation before winter is upon us. It is a time when my mind turns to baking cookies, leisurely walks with my dog, Sebrina. It is a more relaxed time for me when I am willing to make time for a good book, a long chat over coffee with a friend or so many of those other simple things that make life worthwhile.

I find I am in the Autumn of my life also. Some call it the Golden years. I am not always sure they are so "golden" because I attach the word perfect to the word golden. And nothing in life is perfect. I move a little slower, I seem to have more aches and pains and my eyes , along with the rest of my body tire more easily. It is a fact of life, a fact of one woman's autumn of life. But it is also a time when I want to take time to do some of the things I have put on hold all my life. It is a time when I don't have to go to bed at a certain time, get up at a certain time. It is a time when I no longer feel the need to make huge commitments nor meet everyone's needs. A time when I can enjoy each day for what it offers. I do not have to follow a rigid schedule. I can read a book into the wee hours of the morning. I can chat with a friend for an hour without guilt, I can sit and watch the golden leaves fall from the beautiful Norwegian Maple outside my window.

I no longer have to prove anything. I can be, just like that tree. I can be a splendor of color in just being. As the days pass I can shed things that no longer benefit me, just as that tree will let its golden leaves tumble to the ground. And as I shed them I will take on a new beauty. My strengths will be more vi sable.

Last night after the house became quiet. I took out my sketch pad and began to sketch trees. In my mind I could see that some had knots where they had lost a limb or been wounded. I realized that these knots were things that gave the tree beauty and character . And I wonder if the same is true for me. Do all the life "woundings" help to make me a person of beauty and character? Am I growing stronger and becoming a more beautiful person because of them or am I becoming bitter and diminished and possibly cutting my lifespan shorter because of the trials?. I hope I am not becoming bitter but instead only better.

Today I am going to take those sketches and lay in some water color to allow them to have rich color and beauty. And while I do it I am going to dwell on the rich "color" of the autumn of my life and rejoice!

S.