Seasons

 

By: Misty Murph'Ariens

 

 “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven...” -Ecclesiastes 3. When this was read at my mother's funeral, I had only begun to recognize the peace which understanding that principle could bring. I must admit that even in that somber atmosphere, I couldn't help but hear in my head the “Turn, turn, turn...” between lines. I don't think I was all that unusual for gloomily thinking about mortality in my teenage years, but actual loss certainly gives that thinking sharp perspective. I began to understand that there was no sense to worry about the inevitable. Really, there is nothing wrong with death itself. Death is a necessary and natural part of life. The real shame, from a human perspective, is when the fruit falls from the vine before it is ripe, so to speak. My appreciation for the cycles of life has definitely been strengthened by my taking up farming. We slaughter our own meat animals, and although it is very difficult to put an end to a life you had such a large role in shaping, there is a direct connection in your mind that by this animal dying, you are able to live and be nourished by it. Don't get me wrong, it is hard—very hard. There is not an animal that I don't love. I put a lot of myself into those creatures through the love I try to give them every day. Many people cautioned me not to get attached to any animals, not to treat them as pets, because when the time came to put them in the freezer, I would not be able to do it. But, by putting a part of myself into each creature, when I kill it, a part of me dies with it and I mourn for it. That is the price I pay for the energy that it will give me. Even in picking produce in the fall, there is a feeling of abundance yet simultaneously a feeling of coming to an end. However, there is comfort in knowing that every act of reaping is also an act of sowing, for as we eat the fruit picked in the autumn, we are creating the soil that the seeds of that fruit will grow from in the spring. In the vast benevolence of Nature, what is a loss for one is a gain for another. For example, when I came upon one of our free-range rabbits dead in the field (apparently killed by another buck), I skinned the poor beast to preserve it's lovely fur and it's flesh became a feast for the cats. These cats had cuddled up to this rabbit in cold weather, but had no trouble to eat it once it was dead. When those cats die, they will be composted and turned to earth which will nourish the grass the rabbits will eat and the circle of life will continue. These lessons—of perceiving the connections of life and death—are especially vivid at this time of year. The tree leaves are finished their job for the year, but in their fading from existence, they display their greatest glory. Growing up in Texas where there is little change between the seasons, I have come to truly love the changing of the seasons in Ontario. The melting of the snow in spring to reveal burgeoning green life, the flush of growth that summer brings, and the triumphant colour of autumn to celebrate the pinnacle of life, before the solemn peace that winter brings. Moving through the seasons reminds us that there are seasons to our lives too. There will be new beginnings, growth, colour, and eventually winter. But, let us not forget, after winter always comes spring.