A gentle breeze
Through golden trees
An infant’s grasp
A lusty cry
A peaceful slumber
A sweet goodbye
From age to age
As one book opens
We turn a page
A dear friend of mine recently celebrated the birth of her granddaughter, a little girl named Georgia. Within a month’s time, this same friend was grieving the loss of her 95 year old mother. Birth and death- the reality of life. One life begins as another passes on.
The autumn is nature’s way of reminding us of the passage of time. The leaves turn from summer green to vivid shades of yellow, gold, and russet, and soon carpet the forest floor. With winter’s arrival, a blanket of snow covers all.
Though it is sometimes sad to witness the falling leaves and the barren trees, we are heartened to know that with spring will come a renewal of life. Those same bare trees will again burgeon with verdant shades of green.
On a recent visit to Grandma’s, my little grandson and I walked to a nearby stream. The air was pungent with the aroma of decaying leaves as we trudged along, our shoes sinking in the mossy ground. We had to stop at least once to retrieve a little shoe, lost in the muck.
The noisy chatter of squirrels filled the air, as they scampered through the leaves, burying nuts for the upcoming winter. Apparently, the Eastern Grey Squirrel, like one of some 200 varieties worldwide, play an important role in what is known as seed dispersal. As winter approaches, squirrels carry their food and bury it in several locations. They hide more food than they will ever recover or eat. The buried seeds and nuts sprout and begin to grow in these locations the following spring.
That being said, when my grandson wanted to pick up acorns, I knew it probably wouldn’t matter to the squirrels. Our pockets soon full of acorns and nuts, we reached the stream. I held tightly to his waist as he tossed the acorns into the inky water. “Bye, bye, acorns!” We watched them slip below the surface, then headed home for cupcakes embellished with sugary frosting.
A seemingly insignificant interlude, yet one that reminds us of the precious aspect of time: like the autumn, all is fleeting.