Couch on the curb

Autumn Movement by Carl Sandburg

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

Thoughts on autumn are rather morose, always with a sense of doom at the upcoming winter. The carefree days of summer have come to an end and apart from the brief, breathtaking splendor of fall colors, bleak days of winter await. The days are alternatively beautiful and warm or cool and blustery. One never knows what to wear or how the day will unfold. It is a time of chaos, confusion and sleep pattern changes with the end of daylight savings time. Jackets are sent to be dry cleaned, flu shots are taken, summer clothes put away and nuts stored for the winter. Amidst all this, there is an urgent need to de-clutter, going through closets, shoe racks, garages and sheds.......letting go of things not needed to make room for other essentials. This happens twice an year, in spring and in fall, and no sight is more representative than the couch on the curb.

There it sits majestically, patiently awaiting its fate in the hands of the clean-up truck.  It's an ugly old thing, often wearing coffee and wine stains or results of an ironing mishap (or two). It sports runaway springs which have lost the battle against incessant trampoliners and sag-lines which indicate seating preferences of the family that owned it. It is sometimes a relic from the distant past, which reminds us wistfully of days bygone and styles we fondly refer to as being retro. It weaves a story like no other....of TV dinners, first stolen kisses, gazing contently at a newborn sleeping peacefully in arms, life altering announcements, lonely dates with a tub of ice cream, riotous gatherings, conversations, sport rivalries, huddling in a blanket and watching a horror movie and quiet cuddle times. It encompasses the emotional roller-coaster of a life well lived. Yet, here it waits, abruptly cast away from being the silent spectator of that very life. The decision to do away always comes with some measure of sadness even as the delivery truck is awaited with excitement....the harbinger of new, furniture and memories alike. Bittersweet is the word that comes to mind.

Change in seasons and in life can similarly be bittersweet. Even as greenery turns to desolate nothingness, it provides us with a sensational swan song of wondrous pigmentation. For most of nature, winter is a time of rest until rays of sunshine hug closer to the earth and life cycles are renewed in spring. In the human world, life still goes on in earnest. We are layered, cold and sun-deprived. Yet life goes on at a frenetic pace, seldom slowing down and never stopping. If the world will not pause around us, can we instead pause within for a self-check? If we are ensconced in our own small universes of personal highs and lows, how can we open our consciousness to new and extraordinary experiences? How can we enrich our lives and take it from mundane to miraculous? We do get so comfortable in our own personal spaces, beliefs and routines, often unbending to the new and unfamiliar. Maybe its time to pause, reflect and put the old familiar couch on the curb. As with everything else in life, magical experiences and subsequent memories await.