Growing up in New England,
One Could Never Ignore
the Rotation of the Seasons
From the bleak bare trees suddenly laden with buds to the happy harbors settling in for a time without boats, growing up in New England I learned to anticipate the cycle of activities and holidays of each time of year. The costumes for halloween, the feeding of birds in snow, Christmas sharing and visiting, the frozen feet sore from ice skating, mom's aromatic cinnamon buns, smells of spring, the scraping, painting and launching of boats, swimming, sailing and fishing. Special things unique to each season comprised my world.
But . . . other than the excited start of a new school year, autumn mostly made me sad. It was an obvious time of brilliant color and also of death. It was as if the season itself were a tutorial about life. Brilliant and then gone. That sad reality was so obvious and innate, even to a child. It was not a time when a child might discuss sadness with a parent or elder. The sadness was so personal as to be beyond vocalization anyway.
Work, study, responsibility, and stress obscured the observation of seasonal changes during many years. Autumn nearly slipped away unnoticed in those times, but its heavy heart never fully departed.
But then . . .
Decades melted away and I relocated away from those demanding and dramatic seasons clicking like a relentless clockwork. The churning cycle of nature is more subtle here, like a slow dance. The weather extremes are sanded down toward a comfortable range. I see I am now part of autumn in all its brilliance! Oh! Wait! Autumn seems to be perfection now. Sadness has melted. Has autumn changed or is it me?
Colors infuse my clothing choices where once they were missing. Color pops from my creative work every day. New ideas for products are many. Autumn in this life is wonderful! I want to stay up all night and create jewelry!
See my jewelry shop LehaneArts
See my chainmaille jewelry shop Lehane