Taking a walk during the summer months is often uncomfortable for me. I find the warm weather oppressive and yearn for the crisp enchantment of autumn.
Now, as I walk with dappled leaves falling, I am stirred by vague memories of long walks home from school under a harvest moon, the smell of fall air and the delightful treat of caramel apples.
Now that I am older and a little wiser, I realize that, on a deeper level, there is meaning in the purpose of fall itself, in the season that signals a moving into winter.
For me there was, and still is, comfort in the latency, that period of time when growth is stilled. After the last harvests of fall, the created world begins its journey inward, when the growth of spring and the fulfillment of summer come to a halt and life begins a period of rest and renewal.
It is in this time of rest that the gift of renewal allows for the period of growth.
Certainly, there is an essential quality to the experience of growth. God has deemed it necessary in all areas of human existence. Think of the young Jesus, who, after traveling with his parents to Jerusalem for the Holy Days, returned with them to Nazareth where he “advanced in wisdom and age and favor before God and man” (Luke 2:52).
Scripture teaches us something similar about Jesus’ cousin, John the Baptist: “The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the desert until the day of his manifestation to Israel” (Luke 1:80).
What we don’t hear about are the many struggles and disappointments that likely accompanied the growth of these two men.
Personal growth can be the most painful of experiences, often stemming from great trials of loss, fear and doubt. When the trials are many and the pain becomes overwhelming, we are often encouraged to find ways to flee from the experiences, and with the escape, avoid growth.
How blessed we are that nature seeks no such escape route. When we immerse ourselves in God’s creation, we not only restore our bodies and our mental state, we join with the popes and saints who did the same, and taught that God created all things not only for our enjoyment and benefit, but also to instruct us.
Among those holy men and women were St. John Paull II, Pope Benedict XVI, and Pope Francis, as well as St. Francis of Assisi, patron saint of animals and the environment, and St. Kateri Tekakwitha, known as a child of nature, who made a small chapel in the woods by crafting a wooden cross, planting it in the ground and spending time there in prayer.
St. Kateri understood that nature’s periods of stillness, of turning inward, are necessary and fruitful for all of God’s creation, most especially God’s children.
Perhaps that is why God created autumn to be so beautiful; to encourage us to lose ourselves in the stillness for a while in order to prepare for our next season of growth.
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash
