Fall is almost here. Some people are "fall people" and some aren't. I'm not. My dad used to love this time of year, when the air turns crisp and the foliage turns brown and orange and yellow. I see that it has its own kind of beauty, but fall makes me sad.
I'm a spring person. It's hard to be depressed in the spring. Even the air seems charged with life and energy. Plants turn a vicious shade of green, birds are everywhere, giving free concerts, and the air smells warm and inviting. In spring, everything looks possible.
Fall reminds me that everything dies. Those excited plants are weary and drooping. The birds say, "Forget it. I'm tired of singing." The whole world seems to be winding down, aching, exhausted from the busyness of a summer that is ending.
But fall also reminds me that nothing in this life is permanent. No matter how fun, or beautiful, or exciting something may be for a season, it will not last. It makes me yearn for a place and a time where happiness, beauty, relationships go on and on forever. Fall brings restless dissatisfaction with this world and its offerings.
And that's a good thing. If it was spring all the time, who would need Heaven?
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