The Simple Joys of Nature's Seasons

In the desert where I live, triple-digit temperatures have finally dropped into the 70s during the daytime, and this means our fall is almost here. I have been doing some re-potting and planting of flowers in my small patio garden and am once again feeling the joy of being in harmony with nature.

I realize that many people are city dwellers today, and seldom think of the importance of nature in our lives. The tendency is to get caught up in the fast pace of life and forget what it feels like to connect with the Earth, feel the soil in our hands and participate in the natural cycles of life.

Still, I believe that we all share a primal response when we notice that nature is shifting into another seasonal change. It may be the falling leaves and a slight chill in the air, or in some areas the first snowfall, but for that fleeting moment we are reconnected to the Earth and grounded in the truth that we are one with everyone and everything on this planet.

While I have lived in the desert long enough to get used to just two seasons, hot and not so hot, there are definitely some rewards. In addition to giving relatives who live in more frigid zones a difficult time by announcing the balmy shirt-sleeve temperatures we enjoy on some of their coldest days, we can wear the same type of clothing year round.

Even though my family moved to the desert when I was a pre-teen, some of my most cherished memories are of winters in St. Louis, where the climate changes were definitely less subtle. For instance, I remember once as a young child I awakened before anyone else in my family with a heightened sense of excitement. And sure enough when I ran to the window and checked, there was the first snow of the season and it was so brilliantly white that in the light it seemed to be sprinkled with jewels. I also didn’t miss the fact that it looked at least six to eight inches deep.

Without another thought I grabbed my coat and quietly left the house barefoot and in what was surely a state of childhood bliss. There was not another footprint anywhere in sight. I ran to the end of our block one way and then to the other with an intention of being the first person to leave footprints in this magical gift. I believe that in marking the occasion in this way, I was paying natural homage to the blessedness of the event, as well as a child’s way of joyously welcoming another opportunity to have fun.

And fun we did have. When we weren’t in school, there were the special days of going with my older brothers to Lafayette Park and sailing down the hillsides on our sturdy wooden sleds, which they masterfully guided. On regular days, we younger kids satisfied our desire to drain every last bit of joy from the snow by building forts and having day-long snowball fights, interrupted only by the need to go indoors and thaw out and being forced to go to the bathroom, eat or put on dry clothes.

Even the adults seemed to appreciate the beauty of the local park, which became a snow-covered wonderland. The picture-postcard images of stately bare trees dressed in arctic-blue ice and outlined against the grey-blue skies were ethereally beautiful.

What great and treasured memories. Yet, as I look around my neighborhood today, there are mostly desert-friendly trees such as paloverde, olive, oleander, mesquite and greasewood. The sun is shining brilliantly, it is a balmy 75 degrees, and flowers are blooming all over the neighborhood, including bright-red geraniums on my back patio. And there will be no shoveling of anything, except maybe a little dirt. Life is good when we are in harmony with nature, no matter the reason or the season, or even the climate zone we call home.
___________________________________
Copyright © 2008 by Fern Stewart Welch

The author’s book THE HEART KNOWS THE WAY—How to Follow Your Heart to a Conscious Connection with the Divine Spirit Within – is available at Amazon.com, as well as through major bookstores such as Barnes & Noble and Borders.