Theres something about seasons and weather that reminds me of the fragility of humaness. The winter months cause what is now considered to be a recognised depressive disorder in modern society. The ongoing drought and lack of rain cause a rethink on how we live and what we live for. The weather and seasons slow us down. Remind us of our roots. That we are but dust, and to dust we shall return.
Speaking of rain, there has been quite a bit lately. I took a walk along the creek after the first steady twenty four hour deluge we've had in perhaps a year or more. It was very refreshing to see the creek flowing and everything sodden and wet. The limbs and foliage of trees and bushes were heavy and wiliting under the weight of the approaching winter. The creek sounded fresh. The air smelled clean. The houses are sleepy under the gaze of the melancholy sky that hangs its mourning brow low over the roofs.
The community of ducks that make their home here were swimming around happily. Their demeanour is visibly different after a good rain. The bubbling creek is joy to them. The sodden earth and long wet grasses that become a luminous green in this light, weeping over the banks with sad gratitude, are their love. The sky was a heavy grey, and a wintry haze blanketed the suburbs. People were walking their dogs in dark jackets and heavy clothing.
There is something comforting and energising about the melancholy season.
The seasons and weather can force us into interiority. Then we realise the fruitlessness of many things. All the needless attachments we have. We spend so much time in panic. Building our modern edifices in defiance of the natural order. God must weep for our brilliant, gleaming cities like Jesus did for Jerusalem. In our modernity, we have come to fear nature. The fire, the earth quake, the flood. It cracks us open. Spills our hubris in the dust to be soaked up by the thirsty ground. They will all inevitably come upon our humanity with devastating force. But the still, small voice of the Lord will not be in any of these.
I hope for a dark, sodden Winter.
