Nature

 

It’s easy in these days of seclusion to wear the same clothes for days on end, for who will notice? But nature changes her dress daily! Today, the maple keys that were chartreuse tinged with cranberry just days ago are softer in colour: silk green and watermelon dusted with silver. Everything changes in a day. And the seasons are no exception. No fall, winter, spring or summer is quite the same as another in sensory experience. We can have such particular memories of one sultry summer etched into our consciousness, the colour palette of a specific fall; all purple, blue, orange and white, or the deep cold winter of 1947, for instance.

We are richer for paying attention—noticing the clever folds of a forsythia flower and the delicate frill of an autumn olive blossom; admiring the work of One who delights in beauty for its own sake.

Almost home on my morning walk, a young man in a black baseball cap, tank top and shorts, pushes a stroller towards me. A small vision of loveliness walks by his side, her blond hair cut in a medium bob with bangs and wearing a dress of palest lavender that falls at mid-calf length. The sun shines through its delicate gauzy skirt and petticoat, she is as pretty as any of the flowers I’ve passed today. It’s in our nature, too, to want to be admired in every season.