One More Sunset
It’s September; September means different things in different parts of our country. In Florida, it means the weather will become more tolerable with cooler temperatures and lovely weather. I think that’s good on some level for those who live not just in the sunshine state but anywhere that Spring brings relief, and there are few of those, most of us live in climates that are at the best uncomfortable after fall. I think those in the temperate zones are missing a lot.
Fall in New England, my particular part of the contiguous United States. It is indeed a very special time of the year. We live in many ways by the rising and the setting sun, the shorter days, the longer nights, and the increasingly cold temperatures. Summer’s death is made beautiful by falls caress.
And for a while, we forget, we bask in the beauty of fall, through October, our New England hills are a blaze with forgetfulness. We forget that we hardly had three months of summer and then came fall and the death. The cold frozen tress, rigid with wind chills sometimes more time than we would wish. Wind chills in your lying to me mental modes of twenty below, weather person stop Smoking! Sage in the back room, twenty below! You got to let me on the sage heading west.
Yes, fall makes summer’s death beautiful. And then winter reminds us that there is nothing beautiful about death, At least not to those of us who have stayed behind in this world, to live with memories of winter shinning brighter than the memories of summer.
Last sunsets come once but last forever. I can’t help but wonder when I will see my last sunset, the finale glimpse of beauty striking across the skies in shades of reds, yellows and blues, reflected back at the sky by the waters sometime almost impossible to tell the sky from the water blending into one far horizon and one last sunset.
The last year I have seen so many beautiful things on this earth, and I have tried very hard to become more and more in love with our planet and each living creature on it. I have tried to breathe in every drop of life my soul could hold. I want to keep it inside me to comfort me as the shadows of fall and life bring the brightness of summer to a close. I want every drop of sun and light and warmth my body can hold, And with the courage and tradition of the pilgrims and fisherman and farmers of New England, I will struggle through another long cold winter wondering why I do. Until I see the first crocus pop its living head from the earth, and the first tiny bud on the tree outside my door. In this I have witnessed death and rebirth. I have found one thing to cling to as I wait for one more sunset.
Tags: deah, farmers, fishermen, last sunset, pilgrims, summer, Summer's death made beautiful by falls caress, sunsets, twenty below, wind chill, winter