“In life, there are many beauties, but nothing so rich as the treasures brought by the change of seasons.”
My hope is that when the seasons change, you have wondrous moments in your life, and that the seasons do change, so that your arms may rise in unfettered joy, that your step skips so lightly you believe you are flying, and that all at once, euphoria, before just a word, becomes a feeling. In life, there are many beauties, but nothing so rich as the treasures brought by the change of seasons.
I hope that your lazy grays and soft browns of winter may always turn to vibrant spring lush with green; that you may walk in the woods to experience life’s abundance; that you may garden and watch your plants grow tall and erupt in color, fragrance, and flavor. That you may see the dewdrop cling to the blade of grass.
I hope that you feel the breezes of many seasons sweep across your face, not only when the summer sun warms the air and the spectacular blues and whites of spring fill the sky, but also when the chilled winter rain pelts and stings your cheeks; that when summer wanes and the birds’ songs diminish because it is time for migration, you may lie in bed and listen to the evening chorus of crickets and tree frogs and owls and mourning doves and all creatures that choose to stay, some to their peril. Nature is a symphony with varying movements, no two alike.
I hope that in autumn, you may experience the oranges and reds and yellows and browns of leaves transforming; that you may hear the leaves crackle as you jump and roll through the mounds born of the gathering rake; that you may discover at your window a flock of cedar waxwings which happen by the berry bushes in your yard, where they feed until their bellies are full, where they delight in fussing and singing and roosting like merry drunkards in the midst of joyous revelry; that the flock feels like family, loyal and true, never failing to return with the new season.
My hope is that we have not taken these joys from you; that our world is healthy, vibrant, and alive. And that you smile brightly when you hear me say, “Let’s dance butterfly.”
With love to my children, grandchildren, their many descendants,