In the early fall of life . . .

It's November in BC. The latter part of October and the first week or so of November are glorious in this very beautiful part of the world. All summer long, BC is lush with green everywhere. In the Fall of the year, the deciduous green turns to beautiful yellows, orange, and brilliant reds, especially the maples. This is the scene until the wind and rain hits hard, and the leaves come fluttering down by the millions. Then the streets, sidewalks, and yards throughout the neighborhood call out for a major clean-up. The sun comes out and neighbors greet neighbors as the rakes and the large paper leaf bags come out in the effort to gather up every leaf. If there are elderly in the neighborhood or people who are handicapped, the best of human nature shines as people help one another in the great exercise of raking leaves. Children in the neighborhood love to jump into the middle of a good size pile of leaves or to pack them into an orange plastic sack to create a facsimile of a giant pumpkin.

It is terrific to be right here, right now as the trees drop their leaves and nature responds to the annual cooling of this part of the world. It is a reminder that there are season's of the year and seasons of life, and that life's journey is about transitions. In the northern and southern parts of the hemispheres we are blessed with this reminder of changing seasons. We lived in Hawaii for over a decade, where the change of seasons was hardly noticeable. We barely noticed winter when the temperature in Hawaii only varied by ten or so degrees. I missed the seasons then. Now I am enjoying the whole package: autumn leaves, a fire in the fireplace, a hot drink after coming in from the cool of the day having raked more leaves.

At the honourable age of sixty-one, I have lots of energy and a passion for living, but the leaves of Fall do remind me that my capacities and possibly my faculties may gradually drop like the leaves of the tree in my front yard, leaf by leaf. On the other hand, I am reminded that with the falling leaves, one sees better in the fall. Things hidden before become visible. I do take heart and hope in one tree down the block, an oak tree, that for some reason does not drop all its leaves until Spring. In a time when more and more people are living into their 90s in relatively good health, there is hope. Nevertheless, a wholesome position to stake out in the early fall of life is to live every day as if it is the last and to live life to the glory of God just in case the rain and the wind pick up and hit hard and there are no more leaves left to fall.