Perhaps in my heart I protested the change of seasons too stubbornly. The Earth reminds me that she too needs rest. It’s a gray and breezy day, although the temperatures have been mild.
The wind, traveled so far, carrying with it the very spirits of the wildflowers I walked by, washed me with a deep satisfaction of a life well lived, a job nearly finished, a gratitude for the time borrowed.
As the prairie busies itself with preparations for a well-earned sleep, the legacy passing to the next generations is palpable. Each tiny little seed, a perfect life in its entirety, itself an offering to the gods on the wind. It is time, I too must let go of summer.
With gratitude, I must make preparations for a long rest and the rejuvenation winter will bring.