AUTUMN OF LIFE

As I sit on the hillside peering out over the valley and observing the changing colors of the trees, I decide that I am in the mid-summer of my life. Most people would probably say that I was in the autumn of my life, but the way I see it, autumn is the final stage of the life cycle. In autumn, the trees change their colors to brilliant oranges, sultry reds and vibrant yellows. The harvest brings in the fruit of the year's labor. "What we sow, so shall we reap," the final acknowledgment of our life's choices.

Winter would be the beginning of life ... within its dark and coldness, new life erupting inside, much like the mother's womb. The warmth penetrates through the vessels much like the roots ... and the seedling is nourished and the child brought forth.

Spring would be life at its beginning and learning stages ... babes to young adulthood ... where everything opens up and blooms ... and seeds for the future are planted with the joys and disappointments not yet noted.

The summer is the active stages of life ... when days are long and life is lived to the fullest ... as long as possible. The fruits have borne and been enjoyed. The trees are at their peak of performance and all of nature is visible. The community communes and celebrates life.

In mid-summer, the days are hot and the pace slows a bit ... to seek relief. Storms pop up ... and fade away. The realization of all is just around the corner ... but still far enough away to enjoy the summer breezes ... and warm nights.

Fall arrives in all its majesty and magic. It has in its power the ability to prolong summer or quicken the season's end. To anticipate life ... or act as a prelude to death. The autumn of life is the accumulation of all that has transpired in the previous seasons. The conception, birth, planting, gestation and growth, the flowering, producing and fulfilling ... and finally the glory and the harvest.

What shall I reap in the autumn of my life? What have I sown? It is only one cycle of life per human. What kind of harvest will I have for the next journey ... the next life? For I cannot plant again in this life ... what shall I take to the next?

by Susan Handle Terbay