Day 288 A Quiet Tickle

September 23, 2015
(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)

It has been gradually approaching. I’ve seen it, heard it and felt it. The daily changes are subtle. The sun’s angle begins to change and throws different shadows, reveals new relationships. Some trees, as if the burden of holding green for so long, have begun to let go. The air takes on a fresh quality. Transitions that I notice first, however, are the sounds. For the past several weeks, tree frogs have slacked off, cicadas have grown tired of their music, and fewer crickets sing. Eventually the softness that green offers will change. Without the canopy, sound will escape through the holes and will adopt a new timbre. 

At Downs Park this evening, for a while, I sat on a bench overlooking the Chesapeake Bay, listening to the rhythm of the waves washing on the shore mingled with only a few remaining cricket songs as the sun was setting. Of all the sounds, I think water and cricket choruses are most relaxing and reach deepest into my spirit. As I walked to the pond, the beauty of one tree struck me. It held green leaves and others were changing to red hues but these tones were still pastel—almost pink—not the normal saturated colors we are used to in autumn. This tree is approaching the autumn journey with a quiet tickle rather than a trumpet blare. It seems to be meditating and breathing deeply, in no hurry to rush the season. 

I agree that my favorite season should not be rushed. 

My gift today is the beginning of autumn.
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