Spring Is a Promise Autumn Keeps

I think fall is my favorite season.

And I know it sounds strangeto fall in love with a seasonthat strips the trees of their beauty,that scatters their leaves across the earthand leaves their branchesreaching naked toward the sky.

But there is a certain kind of peacein watching the worldlearn how to let go.

A quiet sort of serenityin the way the leaves surrender to the wind,painting the ground in shades of amber and gold,as though even their fallingwere something worth admiring.

And perhaps that’s what I love most about autumn.

It reminds me that not everythingthat falls is lost forever,that the branches which stand bare todaywill one day wear flowers again.

That the earth does not mournthe departure of its colors forever,for beneath the silence of winter,spring is already preparing its return.

And I think there is somethingso wonderfully comforting about that.

To know that even the treesmust endure a season of emptinessbefore they are dressed in beauty again.

That sometimes,life must look a little barrenbefore it begins to bloom.

And perhaps my heartis not so different from the trees.

Perhaps the things I’ve lost,the tears I’ve cried,the heartbreaks I’ve endured,are seasons too.

Not permanent addresses,but places I am passing through.

And maybe all I needis a little patience.

Just enough to believethat the branches of my lifewill not remain bare forever.

That the same heartthat has known the heaviness of sorrowwill someday learnthe lightness of joy again.

So yes,

I think fall is my favorite season.

Not because I love watchingbeautiful things come to an end,

but because there is something hopefulabout a tree that lets go of its leaveswithout ever losing faith in spring.

And I want to be like that.

To learn that fallingdoes not mean I will never rise,that losingdoes not mean I will never find,and that a season without flowersdoes not meanI have forgotten how to bloom.

For autumn has taught methat even when lifetakes everything beautiful away,

it does not meanbeauty will never find its wayback to me.