The changing of the seasons is affecting me adversely this year. Or perhaps I am affecting it adversely. I can't quite tell. All I know is that today when I walked out after dinner and the light was slate-grey, my heart sank. Then a fall wind came and blew through my hair, and as much as I love it for its crisp brightness, I could not help but feel a tinge of despair. The season of death is coming, and there is nothing to be done.
I love fall in theory- the bright leaves, the clean wind, the warm clothes- but in my heart I know that as the darkness pulls tighter and tighter around my days and the sun becomes a friend who comes only for lunch, I will have to fight melancholy off with liturgy and friends and my love as best I can.