Life and death, war and peace, being together and living apart all cycle in the nature of the seasons. Similarly, that pattern belies a deeper truth. That is, that even though they repeat, things are different each time, with some progression, some regression, every time around. In war, there may be an attack on a village which is light and militaristic so as to be directed only at the enemy. Maybe the attacker wants to visit that town later and so does not want to damage it. But by the same time next year, the civilian homes of that same village may be exposing their wallpaper and fine china to the street through gaping and angry holes as a result of mortar attacks which increased because of tactical changes or simple frustration on the part of the attacker. Trees which were pockmarked from shrapnel but still green in late summer may at the same time next year be brown with missing limbs. Similarly, you may discover some new realization about yourself which causes you to stay rather than leave someone you love because through the on and off nature of relationships you crest some doubt about your character which reveals a summit of understanding one day over coffee or keyboard. And the next time around, you think, “I do that. Maybe I shouldn’t.” And then you don’t anymore, until you forget. Whether it works out or not, you hopefully learn and incorporate the lessons of seasons past and if you don’t, then you don’t.
I lived next to Lake Michigan for a few years watching each morning grow from the east with a demonstration of endless variables of temperature, humidity, weather, orbit and every other singer which had a line in that morning chorus. Part of my preconceived self melted away each day as I drew the variations in my mind through the ink of experience, the obsolete ideas never to be visited again. The lesson so learned, it later became a metaphor for life and an anchor for my tongue which before had so often been a stone skipping across the waves. I don’t mourn the passing of that more innocent and more ignorant part of myself. Though this new world requires a little more responsibility and vigilance, I know deep down that truth can never be unrevealed.