Summer goodbye...

As of yesterday it is now officially autumn. The weather, of course, doesn't seem aware of this: as soon as we bade farewell to summer the sun started beaming and daytime temperatures have been well into the teens, whereas before, when it was still officially summer, we'd had heavy rain and chilly nights. On those days, as I regretfully packed away summer clothes and dodged heavy showers, I found myself quietly singing a song I learned at primary school when I was about six.

Summer goodbye, summer goodbye
Roses sweet petals shed
Apples are turning red
Summer goodbye, summer goodbye

It's a short, wistful song, which speaks of the melancholy which often accompanies summer's end. It could say so much more - how night falls earlier and mornings are mistier; how green leaves are turning to rust and temperatures are gradually decreasing - but it doesn't. It simply states two facets of this season - the dying of flowers and the ripening of fruit.

And it occurs to me that this is what so much of this season is about. It is a time of dying, of shrivelling and shedding, of letting go... and side-by-side with that, it is also a time of growth and fruitfulness. Nature's cycle gives us fruits, berries and grains to be harvested and stored as necessary provisions, or brewed into sustaining drinks for the dark, lean winter months ahead. The God who always provides ensures that in the midst of our diminishing and letting go we also have everything we need to nourish and see us through the times ahead - and that there is and will be fruitfulness and growth, always. In the midst of all the packing and letting go here at 11NG, and bidding a sad farewell to our glorious "summertime" here, that is an assurance to hold on to.