Even as she relaxes in the golden sunlight of September Persephone can hear the far off sound of her name echoing in the wind.
It summons her to once again retreat into the underworld of six long months. Her mother Demeter hears it too and knows that for six long months the earth will lay barren for in her grief she will with draw the gift of life from the earth itself.
Like Persephone and Demeter I also can feel the coming change and know that this verdant garden will begin to slowly go dormant. And while I may not weep I can feel a heaviness in my soul as I set about the task of removing the dead vegetation and amending the soil in preparation for next year’s resurgence.
There is no doubt in my mind that my own psyche reflects the mood of the changing season.
I feel none of the eager exuberance of spring time now in the waning days of late September.
And yet I am not immune to the heart stopping beauty of the autumn leaves as they change into brilliant hues of red and gold.
But it is a bitter sweet time as I try to hold close the feeling of exhalation that I experience in the time of autumns splendor and yet I know that it will fade all to soon. Come late autumn it will be Demeter who sits alone upon a barren hill side and weeps the tears that fall as cold dreary November rain.
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