hidden glory

Thursday, October 13, 2005

the other side of fall...


...is the melancholy pictured so well by this image. Just days ago, I was exulting in the fresh, crisp air that creates this sense of inward "cozy-ness" pictured by a cup of hot tea and a well-loved book in your favorite nook of your home.

Today, I got into my car and reached out of habit for my sunglasses--then remembered that I don't need them and that I haven't needed them for about a week. For real. We have not seen sun in over a week in Philadelphia. And that gives me time to get melancholic about this aspect of winter coming. I hated that about last winter.

Granted, there were a lot of other very difficult things that made last winter hard. I was going through a very hidden season of glory--and would not be able to see its glory until the season ended. (which coincided with the literal change of seasons) I love sunshine and warm weather and creation and lots of free time with friends. The onset of classes and a regular work schedule and now this dreary chill foreboding winter's entrance...it makes me LONG for full-out redemption and eternal glory. I think heaven will be like year-long summer. With a couple crisp autumn days to give variety--then back to summer again.

Until then, I will try to awake my soul on a dreary day like today with the hope that there is sunshine behind the clouds. And there is a Redeemer at work--though his work may seem hidden behind the darkness we see.

2 Comments:

  • Heather...I found it! (Your blog, that is.)

    This is Mark, Seth's friend. We met at his party last night. I enjoyed meeting you, and certainly now understand why there has been such a sparkle in Seth's eyes of late!

    Personally, I love autumn, but that may be because I spent so much of my life in the Northeast. Perhaps also I am a hopeless melancholic romantic, and there is something about the slow dying of the days that appeals to me. At any rate, I somehow always feel a little more alive when the air turns crisp. And something perhaps "hobbitish" about me likes being driven into my hole in the evening with some warm soup and my books.

    Nonetheless, there is certainly much to rejoice in about summer! During the long months of winter, I try to keep in mind a line from a song by Bill Mallonee: "we've got summer in our veins." Here's the rest of the lyrics:

    well it's the sound of innocence dragging
    it's the sound of falling off the wagon
    it's those million dreams you never gave a name
    we got summer summer in our veins

    was it your sadness that's well beyond belief?
    like a picture thrown in sharp relief
    but you only get to see the rainbow when it rains
    yeah but we got summer summer in our veins

    you throw your life away while on the run
    you're passing out of the pocket like Fran Tarkenton
    it's that desperate aspect of his game
    yeah but he had summer summer in his veins

    soon you'll be making your way in the world
    perhaps you'll meet a boy or a girl
    some days it's all beautiful and glad
    yes and some days shimmering and sad

    we drift in music all our lives perhaps
    could be the soundtrack yeah but running backwards
    but those warm rays are splashing on your windowpane
    we got summer summer in our veins
    yeah we got summer summer in our veins

    Written by Bill Mallonee for CyBrenJoJosh (BMI) ©2002

    By Blogger Mark Traphagen, At 10:26 AM  

  • Heather,
    That tree reminds me of a poem I wrote recently.

    As days go by
    I find myself
    sitting under a black and white tree
    on someone's blog.
    Waiting for that special comment
    to set me free
    while I wait
    I see an elf stomping by
    Leaves crumbling under foot.
    I reach for my colt 45
    Have a swig.
    Spit a mouthful on him
    He runs away.
    Stupid little elf.
    I laugh at my silliness
    He's not laughing though.
    He's covered in beer.
    And it's all my fault.
    Meanwhile, in a distant land.
    A sound so familiar calls my name
    Ricky! Ricky Tate! you come here.
    But it falls on deaf ears
    For that name is no more.
    Now I go by "H. I. McDonough"

    Ok. I guess you figured it out. I'm making this up as I go and I'm not doing a very good job. Plus you have no idea who I am. I just thought it would be fun to comment on a stranger's blog. Actually, I sort of know your friend Amy Clair Smith. But I'm not telling who I am out of embarrasement of my stupidity. Beware. I may strike again.

    By Anonymous covenant rabbit, At 3:23 PM  

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