This month's prompt asks us to think about seasons. Just as the created world experiences the cycle of seasons, so do humans. There are springs when fresh newness bursts within you, times of drought when all seems futile, autumns of abundance, and winters when cold austerity threatens to overwhelm. Write about a season you are currently experiencing or have experienced. How did God meet your needs during this season? How did it affect your writing life?
Blackberries hang heavy and sweet on invasive vines in every neglected school yard corner, along the streets, and in sunny open fields. Full of flavour, they make wonderful jams and sauces, and I freeze some for winter cobblers. Blackberry season reminds me of the day when I was about 12, visiting my grandparents. My grandmother invited me and my sister to go berry picking with her. I, engrossed in a book, declined. My sister went and had a marvelous time. I am not merely reminded of the regret of an afternoon with my grandmother. I am reminded of the passing of seasons and of my life. Of the loss of childhood. My life is rich and full but now, in the Autumn of my life, I want to savor the sweetness of the moments with my family, to reach past the thorns to find the juicy heart of the best.
Seasons relate to the movement of the earth in the solar system, but also to human life. Infants change to toddlers, then children, then teenagers, young adults, middle-age, young old age, and finally, old age. There are wanted and unwanted seasons of life. Sometimes our inner season does not line up with the external one. Winters can come suddenly, without warning in the midst of a summer season when all seems well. Several years ago I wrote on the InScribe blog about a winter of the soul, cold and dark. I am so glad that season has passed.
There is a scene in Pride and Prejudice (2005) where Elizabeth Bennett (Kiera Knightly) sits on a swing in her yard. As she slowly moves back and forth, the seasons twirl around her. It's a cinematic effect I find so lovely, evoking the passing of time. In Genesis 8 God promises that "while the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, winter and summer, and day and night shall not cease." Each season brings its own beauty, opportunities, and challenges.
Chronologically I am now in my autumn years (can it really be?). Yet I feel energy springing up in me to try new things, to publish a book or two, to dedicate myself to learning new skills, to garden with dedication, and to embrace activities I may previously not have made time for. I'm embracing this season, thankful for a healthy body and mind. Retirement means that I must be intentional about what I want to accomplish, making the most of the days given to me. I want to do that without panic and desperation, but in quietness of soul, trusting God to help me. In his poem Ode to Autumn Keats called this a "season of mist and mellow fruitfulness", filled with "all fruit with ripeness to the core." The fruit of the life I have lived is ripening now, perhaps in a process contrary to the earthly world, setting seed for newness once again.
Lorrie Orr writes from Victoria, BC where she enjoys life with her husband and hopes that there is always a bit of springtime in her life.
