I’m a summer person, and I can feel autumn coming. I dread giving up my backyard office in the trees with the birdsong and squirrel chatter and hummer spotting.
One great thing about being human is the ability to live in two worlds at once – the physical place and places of the heart. Sometimes I’m more here than there; Sometimes I’m more there than here. I’ve traveled great distances while sitting on the back porch, listening to the cicades hum and the birds sing and the wind chimes play a different tune every time a breeze blows.
I think about how we, each one of us, plays a slightly different tune every day. Sometimes it seems like one day is the same as all the others, but there is always some small difference in every breath. And we can’t re-do a single moment.
But what if we could? What if we had the option to go back and change moments? If life could be a bit more like reading a book… I like to re-read, listen to the words again, search out a new meaning, a new way of looking at the story. If we could go back and make changes, I suspect we’d spend most of our time not in the here and now but constantly returning and re-doing one thing or another, second guessing ourselves.
My mom used to say that some people can’t “leave well enough alone.” But I’m thinking that, most of the time, unless we are very wise and willing to listen to our better selves, we don’t even recognize when we are experiencing “well enough” – if we did, it would be easy to “leave it alone.”
So, today is a gorgeous day. Cloudy and cool-ish. The backyard is quiet. The drone of jarflies has ceased. I’ve seen the big, green flies lying dead on the sidewalks. The bumble bees have all but disappeared, and the goldfinch boys are looking a little less handsome as they get their winter-brown feathers.
I’m a summer person, and I can feel autumn coming. I’ve seen the shifting shadows of the sun through the maple. Still…it could be rainy and windy and cold. It’s not. The leaves have not yet turned, so there’s still an abundance of green. And blooms — the Mexican heather and mums and geraniums and marigolds are looking great. It’s a gorgeous day, this day. So I’ll stop wishing I could resurrect the jarflies or keep the finch boys yellow for just a little longer or turn the clock back to a sunny, blue-sky, July day.
I’ll leave well enough alone.