“That’s the Day that Leaves Fell Down in Denver,” to the tune of “That’s the Night that the Lights Went Out in Georgia” ;)
October 7 :: Kai and I picnic in the backyard. The leaves were changing color right before our eyes. However, the Aspens, just to the left – still green.
October 22 :: The yard is ablaze with every autumn hue.
November 8 :: Just another pretty (blue sky) day in Denver
But today…November 10th :: the north wind blows, the temp drops 30-degrees in a few hours and the flakes start to fall.
We hit our high of 64 degrees at about 7:30 am this morning.
The Aspen leaves, the last of them that have held on for all they’re worth, the ones that have waved at me happily with each gentle breeze as the sweetest autumn days have drifted by – they are getting kicked out on their butts! Today is the day, I am thinking.
I’d say the Aspens were at about 50% leafery (made-up word) on Saturday. But that harsh, cold, north wind (thanks a lot, North Dakota) is changing everything…wait…I just saw snowflakes…!!!
{Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr}
The BEST version of “Autumn Leaves” on the planet:
By the incredible, late Eva Cassidy. In honor of a wholly gorgeous 2014 fall season…This is the way I sing it around the house or at the keyboard. It is the MOST beautiful!
This weather re-cap has been brought to you by a woman who hates winter, but who lives in a wintry state.
Ay-yi-yi. Just clinging to my fair-weather memories.
Come, thou long-awaited spring – decided proof that life goes on. Bare branches, having lost all great glory as winter overcame resolve and strength waned, have waited {working so much harder to dig in deeper than can be fathomed} and now bud to give birth to glorious leafy-green life. The brittle-dead fields are shedding that golden debris-blanket in strong March winds where green shoots have quietly emerged unseen, looking heavenward. The tulips pop up and then out, the birdsong gets sweeter.
Come, spring ~ release us from heavy garments of mourning, from the dry burlap and twine of packed-away hopes to sun-warmed dreams as big as the cloudless blue-sky. Let the seeds of desire and vision, though dropped barely {breath-held} hopeful into the black soil of despair, now ~ softened in the unseen tomb of dark ground and cold night ~ spring forth with gladness. Life does go on, life is renewed in the spring rains via sorrowful tears. So, come spring.
O spring, how grand the hope you bring, we look for you, we count the days, we hold onto promise barely, our anticipation growing. And then, the crystal-blue light of the freshest of sunrises, a cloudless daybreak, diamond-dew on new grass catches the morning sun and sends it glistening back to You. We are loaded in daily grace, divine benefits – veritably dripping in treasure.
All my springs*, O Lord, are in You. All my springs, my seasons, my days, my hours, my minutes, my wretched body-soul-and-spirit, all of my life and new life, all life abundant, my past, my future, but mostly my today – this minute – all of it is in You, by You, for You and because of Your faithfulness. I thank-You, Lord for the spring which vigorously compels me to concede that letting go or giving up what was cannot deplete nor diminish what will be…
Come now, spring. Fully, finally. Faithfully.
And for fun:
Winter has passed. This must be baseball… :)
*Psalm 87.7 NKJV
Both the singers and the players on instruments say,
Oh I miss the garden of spring, bright green and fairly juicy with surging life, growth visible almost hourly.
The garden of summer, strong, tall, spreading and proud established its rightful territory hosting parties for butterflies and bumblebees while birds swooped and circled overhead for entertainment.
Comes fall and the autumn colors dazzle and your head spins with the abundance and fruitfulness: ripe maturity and the reward of the work of your hands. You gather and enjoy as quickly as you can, more than you’d hoped or dreamed for, more than enough. What will you do with the excess? The garden, only months earlier bare soil, became a hypnotic haven overgrown with delicious joy and frolic, intoxicating verdancy, flourishing symbiosis and riotous vitality.
Winter.
Winter. The winds have blown away the brown crispiness from branches no longer green in a purifying poof. And just like that – bare, faded, stark and desolate woody shrubs etch their way across the landscape looking for all the world like death in this blustery cold. I am forced inside where I stand at the window wondering why. What has happened in the Magic Kingdom?
The snow covers it all. The snow keeps falling and floating across the Magic garden Kingdom, and has settled decidedly upon each branch and every surface, carefully tucking itself around all shrubs and trees, blanketing the the 4′ x 4′ squares where vegetables once grew abundantly. There is quiescent hush there now where once the sound of the spade dug deep into earth, the fountains bubbled exuberantly and night fires blazed; children laughed and ran around while little weeds were uprooted and branches were pruned and sugar snap peas were hungrily crunched upon right then and there in the verdant Kingdom.
Covering.
But the snow covers all now and despite my sadness at the loss of earlier, greener days, the snow serves its true purpose hiding the ground, preventing the heat generated by the earth from escaping. This blanket of crystal white inhibits the radiant life energy from abandoning the roots of the trees and bushes and plants and they are graced with warmth and protection (often 40-degrees warmer) in the dark, deep soil of winter, regardless of what happens in the visible. Did you know roots have a life-pulse that continues through even the most frigid conditions? When the branches above have been frozen in their tracks by sub-zero temperatures, the roots are active and ready to spring into action at any moment, growing and spreading further and deeper even during the resting phase of winter. The snow covering is grace. The snow is mercy. The snow is a safeguard, a secure shelter for the deepest, most important, most delicate and valuable resources and treasures.
The snow covers it all. It unifies the the browns and grays and wheat-golds of the deciduous stand-bys. For this season, this cold and sometimes hope-dwindling time of year, the snow creates a formal gown of beauty for ashes, of gladness for mourning and becomes a garment of praise instead of despair (Is. 61.3). Sandy-the-Dog runs into the white, kicking up the flakes like dust and hundreds of birds fill the air in shock from where they’d been feasting on berries, but soon realize how harmless she is and go back to stake their claim. I laugh at the sight. Life goes on. In winter white.
He gives beauty for ashes
Strength for fear
Gladness for mourning
Peace for despair
When sorrow seems to surround you
When suffering hangs heavy over your head
Know that tomorrow brings
Wholeness and healing
God knows your need
Just believe what He said
He gives beauty for ashes
Strength for fear
Gladness for mourning
Peace for despair
Crystal Lewis, Beauty for Ashes
Hidden under a canopy of mercy on a melancholy winter’s day…Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: Spring will come again. My roots will be more established, stronger. Have mercy on me, Lord,have mercy…
pictured: The Magic Kingdom (aka my backyard) in September; and now.
Did you see the full moon last night, first all huge and orangy just emerging over the horizon and then bright in the blue, white-puffy-cloud sky? Oh it was gorgeous (from my seat in the car in the church parking lot where it took a full half hour to warm up!). The stars were twinkling and the dry snow shimmered in its moonlit bath while I listened to a rather decent selection of Christmas music on Cozy-101.* And it was frigid, frightfully lung-freezing cold at 19-degrees, but there is something so pure, so quiet in that.
This is the only time this year I plan to romanticize winter. It happened. It was beautiful. Now let’s get back to a regular Colorado winter. For crying out loud.
*I want Delilah’s job (weekdays 7pm – midnight on Cozy!). And that cannot be her real name? Come on.
At exactly 8:34 this morning, a large gaggle of geese flew right over my backyard from the north, heading due south. Flying low and loud on this pleasantly cool, green, sunny morning, I wonder: whatever do they find to clamor and chatter so raucously about as they fly over?
Thus, the end of the summer has been signaled…Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: When cold winds begin to threaten – make haste to the secret place where life and comfort are found.
