(By John Denver)
“Reflections on the water like shadows in my mind
Speak to me of passing days and nights and passing time
The falling leaves are whispering winter’s on it’s way
I close my eyes remembering the warmth of yesterday
It seems a shame to see September swallowed by the winter
And more than that it’s oh so sad to see the summer end
And though the changing colors are a lovely thing to see
If it were mine to make the change i’d let it be
But I don’t remember hearing anybody asking me”
I’ve always loved the group of songs by John Denver called “Season Suite”. These are the lyrics for the “Fall” section of it. They kept going through my mind today as I pulled up the plants, weeds and debris in the garden, getting it ready for the winter.
I stopped to toss the ball for Fritz and to admire the changing leaves around me. What a pretty time of year it is. One of my favorites. The cooler temperatures, the bright colors of leaves on the trees and the start of yet another part of life. Many people believe that spring and summer are the only beginnings. I think that this is not actually true. Although many things go to sleep in the winter, there is also a rebirth that occurs during this time as well.
I live across the street from a lake. In the summer it is so alive. I can hear the children laughing and playing and splashing in the water below. The fishermen in their dingies, the water skiers being pulled along at great speeds by fast paced motorboats, trees in full bloom, flowers and birds, all crowding the scene.
In the fall, the fishermen are out in the morning, skimming the lake in their small boats, silently trying for that last elusive fish before the cold winds blow. The leaves twinkle, red, gold, orange and brown, reflected in the still morning waters of the lake. Birds flying overhead, on their journey south, squawk their good byes! A slower paced life, but still alive, for sure.
Winter comes, freezing the lake solid. In what seems like moments, the lake becomes a part of the earth. Snowmobiles arrive zipping across the landscape, and then the “Bob Houses” arrive. For those of you who do not know what a “Bob House” is, it is a small wooden shack where the hearty winter fishermen can sit while waiting for that one big fish that escaped the summer fishing lines, bites at their winter snares. Some of the houses are very simple, others are wild with bars, beds or even a fireplace. Life on the lake in the winter. It is cold, but alive, nonetheless.
Eventually spring comes to the lake and each year we wait and watch for ice out. That magical day when the ice breaks up and once again the flow of water returns. It’s still too cold for fishing, for swimming or even for the birds, but once again I am struck by how alive the lake is, as the water rocks back and forth to shore.
In fact, the lake is always alive, winter, spring, summer or fall. In the warmth of the summer or the coldest part of the winter.
What a wonder to behold!
