My favorite time of the year is fall. I love the colder temperatures, the flannels and the football, the hot chocolate, the anticipation for all of the holidays, and the scenic beauty. Some of my favorite memories in life have happened in the fall. As a kid living right outside of Richmond I loved raking the leaves. Actually, I don’t remember doing any of the raking, but I sure do remember jumping in the leaves once my dad raked them! Then I would gather as many as I could into a big blue and white striped sheet and carry them across Pocoshock Boulevard to the woods and dump them (and then jump into them a few extra times for good measure). As a dad, when my boys were small, nothing gave me greater pleasure than raking up all of the leaves and having Elisha and Isaiah jump in them repeatedly. I can still hear the crunching of the leaves after a particularly good head-first jump!
For the last 20+ years or so we have lived in Kentucky and Virginia. Both states are known for their brilliant foliage during the Autumn months. When we lived in Kentucky I attended a seminary that was located in the hills of Eastern Kentucky and I used to drive the backroads to and from the school during the fall months and it was simply stunning. When Isaiah was in college and playing football games on Saturday Marti and I would drive through Western Virginia to get to his games and the scenery was just gorgeous. I will never forget the mosaic of golds, reds, oranges, yellows, and browns rising over the green hills.
The hardest part about fall for me is how short it is. I wish it could last so much longer. It feels like just a few weeks after the leaves begin to change that they start falling. I am most definitely NOT an expert on the biology of fall. I was never good at any kind of science so I have no idea why or how the leaves change or even why the process seems so short. I just try to enjoy every minute of it that I can. This year, Marti and I have noticed that the tree in our front yard, which produces TONS of leaves each year, is particularly striking. The dark brown and rust colors are so vivid and beautiful, more than any previous year we can remember.
Again, I don’t understand why this season is so fleeting, but I have learned to enjoy as much of it as I can. It serves as a reminder that seasons are just that: short periods of time that will ultimately give way to something different. So much of life is timed by seasons. The reminder that no season lasts forever is one reminder that we all need right now. I remind myself of this in July and August when the oppressive heat becomes unbearable. But at least for the DC area, late August evenings start to bring some slight coolness in the air and that alone brings about both relief and hope. It’s a hope that change is coming.
Lord do we need that reminder right now. And I can confess that I do see changes coming. I do see hope even in this week. On Wednesday, me and a bunch of the organizations in the Festival Center met with the Chair of the Public Safety Committee on the DC Council, Brooke Pinto, to convey to her the impact the oppressive collaboration between DC police and ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) is having on communities we serve and love. While the Mayor and the Council have tried to get through this brand of state-sponsored terror by not challenging the federal administration we were able to demonstrate in our meeting that this approach is failing and because it is failing, peoples’ lives are being literally torn apart. I have been doing meetings with elected leaders for decades and this was one of the most powerful meetings I have been involved in. This is hope that change is coming.
The sudden resignation of Marjorie Taylor Green and her recent break with trump over both the Epstein Files and raising healthcare premiums gives us some surprise along with some hope that there could be a break in the mindless compliance of Republicans to the madman in office. More than anything, this shows that trump is as weak as we have always known him to be. This is hope that change might be coming.
Yes, hope sometimes shrinks, as it does when we see the Democratic establishment act so timidly. But their timidity, like the meekness of politicians of the past who abdicated their responsibilities in the face of fascist oppression reminds me of one central truth: no season lasts forever. Though the beauty of the autumn leaves will ultimately fall to the ground and give way to winter, the changing of the seasons reminds us that change can bring us hope; the same hope we feel with the coolness of the August nights ushering us into the beauty of fall once again.
