There is nothing more comforting than the smell of wood smoke on a cold September evening. The leaves are only threatening to fill our yards as they resist the wind's efforts to hasten the season.
Ah, the season is so bitter sweet. Autumn is my favorite time of the year and Winter my least. To some degree this has become less so since I have been observing the change of the seasons marked by Solstice and Equinox, the four points of the seasons that also mirror the days of our lives.
Autumnal Equinox this year is Sept. 22, 2005, 6:23 PM EDT and marks the time whereby the day and the night are equal in length. It is a time of harvest and preparation for the cold and darks days ahead.
We are often unaware of the cycles of the cosmos and see the changes from one season to the next as lacking any real significance. But I believe that there is balance to be found and felt when one stops and steps into the cycle of the cosmos.
Take time to smell, to taste, to appreciate on this day. Bring to your mind's eye a vision of thanksgiving and prepare. Find a way on this day to reconnect to the earth. Look to the sky as we shift from summer into fall and in your own way make yourself aware of the change that is taking place. Say a prayer or a meditation of thanks. Go make love. Have a celebratory drink. Breathe deep. I think you will see what I mean.

Comments

alix said…
i'll raise a toast northward, sir.
god, it's good to have autumn so near!
transience said…
such sensual suggestions. will do.
Rowan said…
I thought I was the only human left alive that still enjoys a real wood burning fireplace. I so miss that smell, an integral part of my childhood. I have yet to smell it in our area yet, but be sure i'll be waiting for it. At one time, I would have told you summer was my fav time of year, but these last few I'd definately say Autumn.
justrose said…
even though i hate september, i love the woodsmoke and the change of seasons and the stars suspended in the cold air. there are so many mellow and lovely things about it -- season of mists and mellow fruitfulness (TM Keats). my mom died on the last day of summer, a symbolic finish. her favorite season was autumn, and a glorious one marked her passing.