Listening to fall.

~We see fall. The leaves begin to change color, reminding of us of the beauty of change and even of loss. We watch as the world grows more still.
~We touch fall. We can feel the textures of the rough, crunchy leaves, the pumpkins at the patch, and the apples at the orchard.
~We smell fall. The crisp, clean, cold air reminds us of transition. Yankee Candle bottles the fall smells in various sizes for all to enjoy.
~We can even taste fall. We can indulge in the apple and pumpkin foods, drinks, and desserts that make the season special.

But how often do we listen to fall?

Yesterday, I spent time just listening. Listening to fall. It happened accidentally, but it made me realize that I need to make it more intentional. The world seemed to stop as I sat on a street corner waiting for the kids I babysit to come home from school. I’m so glad the bus was running late. I heard the rustle of leaves as they blew across the road and from lawn to lawn. The leaves and the wind knew no boundaries. The wind had such character—it was subtle, yet powerful and unpredictable. Time seemed to stand still as I experienced such serenity. Then, I began to hear the busyness of the world. But it seemed so far away. So very, very far away. The buses, cars, and trucks—filled with people on their way to the next destination. One of those cars represents me, just on my way to the next thing, and to the next, and to the next. Drowned by busyness.

I wish my life would change. I wish the world would change. And I wish that we could all just stop and enjoy what it is right in front of us every single day.