The lights of the Aurora Borealis arch across the northern sky from west of the Big Dipper to east of Pleiades way off past the airport on my little horizon. The sky sparkles as if wearing a dark blue velvet skirt dusted with tiny grains of silver and diamonds. The air is crisp, bordering on icy. My fingers feel it – the approach of winter. Part of me welcomes this change; this autumn season. Part of me wishes for summer, which was too short and too cold this year, to win a bit more time. But even in the dark, I hear the geese honking as they gather to begin their southern journey. They aren’t sentimental about autumn at all. They just know they had better begin to gather and move on. The seasons will change and all my wishing will not stop them on the parts that I deem most favorable.
I like these walks along the riverbank in the early night. They clear out some of the cluttered thoughts from the day. I seem to have less junk jostling for top priority on my mind when I’m out walking. It seems to give God and me clearer access to each other – but that is kind of stupid. He’s not a radio signal. Maybe it is just that I quiet down my mind when I’m walking so I can hear him better. In any case, these walks and this time are holding me close to God at a time when other stuff threatens to pull me away.
So here I am lamenting the approaching cold, snow and ice that will end these walks. I guess I will migrate too, like the geese – inside – and set aside some little sacred space in the warmth of my home.