Lesson from a fence post

Sunday afternoon the wind had a slight chill to it, the kind of chill that tells you there probably won't be a "warn breeze" for several months. The air is "crisp" and wherever you walk you hear the crunching of fallen leaves. They crunch because they're still intact but brittle, they'll crumble in your hand if you're not gentle with them.

On my back fence I noticed the range of colors from summer green to the red of fall. It was memorizing. And so temporal. As is the span of our lives. Yesterday from years ago, decades past, seems so vibrant and contemporary as if it were only a day or two ago.

From the words of the קֹהֶלֶת or preacher / teacher. Most of us are more familiar with the Latin transliteration of the Greek translation of the Hebrew word: Ecclesiastes.

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;"