Here in South Carolina, in the middle of November, it’s finally starting to feel like fall. The leaves have turned rich, warm hues and begun to cover the ground. The sun sets earlier, staining the sky with oranges and pinks, and darkness sets in deeper and longer. The air is getting cold, and after a particularly miserable summer of intense heat and humidity, this change is more than welcome.
Fall has always been a time of reflection to me. The abrupt and obvious transience of nature seems to reflect something in myself. Or, something in life itself. Joe Wheeler once said, “there is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves.” Maybe it’s because it reminds us to do the same; shed whatever parts of ourselves may have died between equinoxes, and get ready to be born again.