The Glory & Poignancy of Falling Leaves

 

For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven:

 a time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted;
 a time to kill and a time to heal;
a time to break down and a time to build up;
 a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance...

                                    Ecclesiastes 3: 1-4 NRSVue

On occasion during my ministry a parent would come to talk with me about a child who was consumed with his or her mortality, and at times inconsolable. I knew this would pass but we would talk and sometimes pray. I had a couple of picture books to share with them about dying including one called The Fall of Freddie the Leaf which, strictly speaking, isn't a children's book. The author, Leo Buscaglia, was very popular at the time as a self-help motivational speaker. I appreciated the book as much for the lovely illustrations which took the reader from bud to falling leaf.

  Bon Echo Provincial Park 

We love the Fall, a poignant time of beautiful colour in our part of Canada. In the past few weeks we've travelled hither and yon and more hither, sometimes taking a canoe, in search of Autumn at its best. Recently we paddled across Mazinaw Lake in Bon Echo Park and climbed the 100-metre cliff for a panoramic view. 

 Yesterday we drove to Lodge Point in Sandbanks Provincial Park before we took part in worship at Trenton United. It was a windy day and we love watching the waves roll in from Lake Ontario. It's also an ideal "swishing" spot for fallen leaves. Kicking our way along the hardwood trail is nostalgic because the sound is evocative of childhood. It is also a form of contemplative prayer and a gentle memento mori  as we are somewhere between the Fall and Winter of our Earthly existence. We are both in pretty good fettle and quite active, praise the Creator, but we know we're gonna die eventually. We've become aware of the failing health of a number of our contemporaries and some are no longer with us.

The author of the book of Ecclesiastes knew of which he wrote. There is a time and season for everything and everyone. 

                                                                       Ruth in her swishing habitat

Our outing yesterday was all we had hoped for. We could hear the thrum of the waves well before we could see them. The wind was wildly tossing the tops of trees and the leaves drifted down in manic splendour. And we went swish, swish, swish. 

                                           Illustration from Last Leaf First Snowflake to Fall -- Leo Yerxa