Back in Beantown to visit, a blue-sky morning invited me on a walk to see the fall foliage New England is famous for. I walked for miles.  

I admired the muted purple hydrangeas. I bent over to sniff a lone white rose in front of the three story with gingerbread trim. I scanned each street in search of the yellows, oranges, and reds I’d remembered.  

I applauded the small ivy-covered patches that passed for yards. I paused a pocket garden that I mused I could replicate.   It was autumn. But instead of the vibrant shades of favorite season, more flowers flourished than leaves fell. 

The climate crisis was cleverly disguised. 

Returning to Nebraska, the global news focused on Glasgow where world leaders debated and negotiated why some country other than their own should do more to put the brakes on the speedway to continued tragedy.  Meanwhile, millions more of the poor and vulnerable die or are devasted by fires, floods, and droughts—-with no end in sight. 

I pondered my part.  

I pat myself on the back for buying second hand dresses. I applaud my occasional abstention from chocolate, knowing its Ivory Coast source means massive deforestation (oh, and child slavery). I go down a rabbit hole researching bamboo toilet paper only to discover it’s shipped from China. 

I am reasonably well informed. What I’m doing is better than nothing. But I’m less sure I’m doing the best I can for my very own community which has yet to even start an action plan for averting the escalating crisis.  

Seasons change. Eventually one ends and another begins. Always. 

With the day of giving thanks soon arriving, I’ll appreciate the one that bought me an October rose. I’ll savor the stunning red sumac and burning bush. I’ll surrender to the season of being an imperfect global citizen. And I’ll vow to not be among those whose promises to do better are broken. 

Change is inevitable.  

It’s past my time to be it. 

Coach Koenig 

Do you see yourself as a citizen of your community? Your country? The world? 

Do you connect the season of your life with the seasons of the earth? 

What change is inevitable for you? 

Write a comment:

*

Your email address will not be published.