XV.
Again the air is full
of falling: the fall of the leaves
in the weighty season that brings
all home again to the lowly
miracle from which they came.
Nature, the mother and maker,
requires that life take form,
enflesh itself in the shapes
and habits of the world’s unnumbered
kinds. And then she requires
each one at last to shed
its guise, giving up
its matter to the life to come.
Think of a world of no fall,
no gravity, calling downward,
homeward, bringing all
by the light uprisen down
to rest in the resting land
— a world, instead, where all
that dies would fly upward
and outward, nameless and alone.
How sterile then would be
the earth, seasonless the year.
The year is the showing forth
of the heavenly love that is
the being of the present world.
The leaves, opening and at last
falling, hold a while
the beauty of God who made them
by the work and care of Nature,
His vicar and our mother.
His only is the light
of which all things are made,
the beauty that they are,
the delight that is our prayer.
-Wendell Berry in A Small Porch
These words are so very beautiful! I will ponder them in my heart. Thank you!
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America’s nature laureate, someone I frequently read. Who gives me pause to stop and stare.
I hope you are not in the way of the fires raging in California at the moment. Stay safe.
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As I walked yesterday morning, the leaves were falling all around me and it was the best feeling.
Now…we will do a test. Let me know if there is a problem, please😊
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