From my journal, November 11:
"I have always been a lover of spring. The brightening days, the peeks of green in dreary March days.... I am the eternal optimist, and spring sings my heart's song: there is boundless potential; look what's coming!
Today I realize that I have come to love autumn. My optimistic eyes thrill to the colors -- the fires of the leaves, and the rich blues and purples of the royal asters, courted by the last of the bees.
Yet I am also learning to admire the rust of fallen pine needles, the crunchy brown leaves, the greys of naked twigs shivering in the pale November sun.
I stop to wonder at the shriveled rose hips and the fragile seed pods that huddle in the brush.
Perhaps I had to reach that stage in my own life, when I know that I am closer to the sunset than to the sunrise, to appreciate the beauty of life when it has learned to let go, to release its bounty, and to stand as testimonial that we can embrace our full cycle, the full circle of what is. There is nothing to fear. We can point to winter and feel its potential, too."