The month of October has always been my favorite. This is when I recall the trials and triumphs of the past year, and begin to make my plans (hint: resolutions) for the coming year. It's when I count my blessings, take inventory, and nurture seeds of hope for the year that is coming.
For some reason, as the seasons ebb and flow, my reverence deepens. I see trees crowned with maturing leaves, smell the decay of leaves, grass, and old wood, feel the first sting of cold, and I know that everything is as it should be. Pagans mark the seasons with observances which pay homage to these cycles. For us, it is a reminder of life and death. And it is comforting to acknowledge that as the seasons turn, so do we.
Summer is over. Sounds of children splashing in backyard pools are replaced by their yells as they jump in piles of leaves. They plan what they will wear to go trick-or-treating. I taste my first cider of the year, and this is when it really hits me.
If not for the apple crop of the summer, we wouldn't have the cider in the fall. One must end in order for the next to come to pass...and this is why we celebrate rather than mourn. I love passing a bearing apple tree and deeply inhaling the aroma of ripening fruit- but not more than I love a good, strong, rich cider.
Every season is to be celebrated. Our culture idolizes youth and fears aging. I love my children, and other people's children also- but many of the truly remarkable people I have known wear a crown of gray hair. They have been "through the press", so to speak; their wisdom is like cider. It is the price they paid for letting go of the bloom of youth.
Take a moment, look around you. Listen to the leaves rustle and crunch beneath your feet; inhale the smells of fall. Don't dread, but delight in the shiver of the sharp breezes. Plan where you will plant your garden, come spring. Look forward to the white mantle of Lady Winter. And know that right now, regardless of whatever else may be right or wrong, these things are as they should be.
