Essence of Life

In another few weeks our canvas will undergo some changes – and we will adapt to season as we do four times each year.

Some places in the world will show a little subtle change and some will experience the harsh persistence of “Old man Winter” who is not patient enough to wait its turn – and will most likely wear out his welcome.

We will be once again, driving home from work in the dark with a major part of the deciduous trees all dancing in an autumn breeze before falling in glorious color to the ground and then fading to colors of earth and yielding to the texture of finality.

This last, long week of October has us reflecting on memories of the path of 2025 which we have been walking upon. It also has us looking forward to the festive lights of finishing strong before laying our head on a pillow for a final night while we sleep away the first hours just inside the new front door.

We will awaken; wipe sleep out of our eyes and get ready to adventure for another year.

Here in Bladen County, we have worked hard, played hard, fought hard and now we finally get a week to take the time to remember for a moment before getting back to the “to-do” lists that we have created for ourselves this year.

Things that change tell us things. Cause us to remember things. The changes can bring smiles and tears and even cause, perhaps, for some changes to be made of our own.

The Canada geese came in early this morning to the lake. Must have been 300 of the Canadians announcing to everyone that they were almost ready for migration… ay? It’s funny how each place I’ve lived, there was a bird announcing a goodbye. In Duluth, Minnesota, it was lake loons that you didn’t notice how beautiful and calming their night call was – until the silence of the next few nights let you know that that they’d gone.

In central Wisconsin it was the Whippoorwills outside the bedroom window putting you to sleep with their methodical call announcing “lights out.”

The deer are skittish as they search the last low-lying branches for berries for a dusky breakfast.

Last night I heard a long, low railroad whistle and rumbling that grew louder and closer before it faded and disappeared into the night with a final whistle at the last stop on the line audible to my aging ears. The sound kept me awake – and then the silence did as well, but provided a space where perhaps it was God’s turn to speak and my turn to listen.

It was that sound alone in the stillness of the night that took me back to Wautoma, Wisconsin, where we were on the verge of finishing up of the latter harvest with Grandpa. Grandma was doing some final canning which had brought the scents of dill, asparagus, carrots, pickled beets, jams and jellies through the house as a preview of what would be on our winter menu.

And of course, as a boy, canning Chinook and Coho from the autumn salmon runs and making homemade sausage and packing the freezers from the venison harvest.

And so many years ago this very week, carving pumpkins, mom with her freshly baked pumpkin seeds that would be ready when we got back from the sleeting, snowy trick and trunking.

I guess the rambling is for the express purpose of reminding each of us, me included – to take the time to live in your moments. Yes, reflection and memories are priceless and planning ahead is necessary.

But where you are right now is so important to not only where you’ve been but also to where you are going.

Be kind. Be attentive to your moments. Don’t take them for granted. It is the essence of who you are what you absorb from life itself.

I think we are supposed to take lots of stops along the way to take pictures in our minds. Maybe all of this was just to tell me to “redeem the time, save the moment and preserve your essence.”

Stop for this next moment and take a mental picture. Many. Make them so strong and so powerful that when you lay your head down for the last time in this life, you will be able to remember them vividly.

The colors. The movements. The melody. The harmony. The texture. The taste. The sparkle. OMG – if you forget anything – don’t forget the sparkle.

Listen to the birds. Watch the squirrels outside preparing for winter. Taste the Muscadine of North Carolina with a friend. Notice the “deciduous dances” going on to the rhythm of the wind. Discover the cloud bears in the sky. And look deep into the eyes of someone you love.

Find your moment today. I can guarantee you one thing as I can guarantee you seasons. They come and they go. Too quickly.

Lines from Big Yellow Taxi written by Joni Mitchell: “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone? They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.”

Oh… and don’t let THAT be the only song you remember when it’s all said and done.