The Unclad Soul

One of the ancient mystics wrote, “Into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” I need that journey. It is time, in this tumult of meanness, to absorb the beauty of autumn. I must leave the hollow vulgarity of politics and get lost in the trees with their tumbling treasures of color. Across this vast country, through open grasslands and the upland passes, over deeply textured mountains and along stone path streams, there lies before us nature’s unbiased beauty. There is something spiritual about nature, something wise and instructive. Yes, it has its turbulent side, which is simply a part of the mystery of the universe. But even with its blasts of snow and desert heat, even with the ferocity of hurricanes and the damaging winds of tornados, the pounding of hail and lightning’s deadly strikes, the earth is still filled with a luminous glow that stirs our deepest longings and leaves us motionless, breathless, awed. There are experiences waiting for us far...

“There is always something left to love. And if you ain't learned that, you ain't learned nothing.” ~ Mama, in Lorraine Hansberry’s, “A Raisin in the Sun”

Autumn is starting its annual transformation.  It seems late this year where I live.   Here, however, in the plum colors of this foliage a lone red leaf pokes its head out into the open.  It is ready to be seen and to declare that the season has changed. I welcome its small presence.  We are never far from nature's stunning sights.  Always nearby are the clear indications of our beautiful world.  And its endless gifts offer armistice to our warring spirits.  Be calm, they say.  Find a place of inner rest.  Stop all ungenerous assaults on one another.  Bend low, the gifts suggest, and listen to the music of the earth's changing scene.  Its voice is soft and carries no harm.   Winter soon approaches.  Until then I celebrate autumn's cozy metamorphosis. © 2012 Timothy Moody   

"There is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves." ~ Joe L. Wheeler, Writer/Author (Photo taken at Fair Park, Dallas, TX)

Autumn in Dallas has nearly come to an end. Many of the trees here have displayed their final colors and have dropped their leaves like beautiful Christmas ornaments that lay everywhere. As I walked to my car yesterday outside my apartment where all sorts of trees decorate the grounds I could not keep from seeing the leaves. They were shuffling in the breeze like children in brilliant dress raising their hands to be noticed. I stopped and looked at the ones at my feet. Bright yellow and red ones; some speckled with shades of both. I felt as though I was walking past gifts on my way to my car. All of that adornment reminded me that it is the natural things in life that are most enduring. I get bogged down in this disgraceful presidential race, in the snarling Christmas traffic, in the sagging economy, in bills and cranky shoppers and the nightly horror on the news. Perhaps that is why autumn was created, to help us keep our focus on life's truest treasures. The poet W...