In the time of autumn recollection, the absence of spring and summer sometimes leads to melancholy, a nostalgia for things that have disappeared. Decay is a reminder of the brevity of fulfillment. Past time may seem like betrayal or like illusion. The the falling of fruit and foliage seems to be a terminal condition that only leads to a cold conclusion void of color.
On the other hand, the anticipation and thrill that accompany spring may not feed amnesia of the cold. Here, bare branches are no longer relevant. It is what the earth will produce that matters, not what it will draw back into itself. Standing in the glory of new wildflowers, we want them to last forever.
And now, even though we know that brevity is as much a part of spring as it is of autumn, that knowledge in itself does not necessarily bring consolation. It is not analysis that saves us. It is rather a strange and stubborn desire, a willful longing that makes sense out of seasonal sadness and excitement. It is a gut sorrow and joy in the unity of opposites that make us whole.
This is Bill Felker with Poor Will’s Almanack. I’ll be back next week with notes for the last week of middle spring, the first full week of the Petal-Fall Moon and the first week of the sun in Taurus. In the meantime, and in the glory of new wildflowers, tell them to last and last (against all odds) forever.