In which I return after long absence, to ramble about fall...

What is it about a change in season that incites such fresh awareness of life? I step outside into the brisk air of fall - the herald of many endings, but fresh, clean, and new in its own right; and that air, through its inherent, enigmatic persuasion, seduces the mind to exercise its own uncanny ability to eradicate the walls erected by time, sharpening into keen-edged consciousness memories of other beginnings, and endings. Memories and emotions of person and place which had become muffled, muted or dulled by the unrelenting barricades of time and space are suddenly, mysteriously, even euphorically translated to the present. Pleasure, passion and pain are not simply remembered, they are re-lived; even renewed anxieties of old distresses are made bearable in their rebirth by the soothing balm of hindsight.

But the nature of these memories is really irrelevant to my enjoyment of the experience. I revel in them because they are alive - inexplicably, emphatically, euphorically alive. More to the point, they are a life. A life whose source is the very breath of God, whose substance is nourished and sustained by Him Who is the Fountain of Life, whose own definitive vitality is so perfect, so powerful, so complete that inanimate nature obeys His will and the mountains melt like wax before Him. My life is held close, enveloped, completely contained within the womb of His own infinite, precious vitality.

It is this thrill that the brisk air of fall incites within my heart; exhilaration in the incomprehensible miracle of life. My life.


I am alive.