004-2
Early-season snow near Eagle Creek park, Indianapolis

I wish I could tell you I’m one of those people who goes with the flow, who intuitively understands how to let go and ride the river, but I’m not. Too often I still find myself in a fight with the universe over the remote control of my life, and every time I lose.

As summer wanes, I grouse about winter. As winter melts into spring, I feel like I’m not quite ready to leave hibernation. What I can say is that the older I get, the more I learn, and the better I get at handing over the remote.

Winter is coming in forcefully this year. We’ve already had an early ice storm and, today, an early season snow. This morning I walked out in it, entered the stillness and the silence, and let the flakes land on my nose. I  walked through brown cornfields in the community garden, trying not to trip over the fallen stalks. I paid my respects to a deceased sunflower, its graceful curve still intact, snow gathering on the back of the long-gone blossom.

And then I went back to where it’s warm, having completed my small act of hospitality to the inevitable. Getting better all the time.

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “Summer has left the building

  1. Just love your elegant, poetic writing. And your metaphors, like the remote control of your life… Doesn’t it sometimes feel like the batteries have run out, as whatever buttons you press it doesn’t get you anywhere?

  2. Love the metaphor of the remote! There is a constant tug of war between control and being controlled. I suppose it is easier as I get older but I still want to change the channel when it snows!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s