Ukrainian Fall

A U T U M N

These are absolutely  perfect fall days--sometimes there are clouds. Sometimes there are clouds, but there are also the gold of the trees--quiet brilliance; red of  ivy climbing the poplars; sun peeking around and over a cloud dimmed, sparkling on the river; faint smell of wood smoke--a home or trash; reeds along the bank rustling in the wind before it caresses my face; faint smell of wet decaying water vegetation; white trunk of the birch reaching, reaching up.

From the river comes the slap, slap of a paddle boat and quiet Ukrainian voices and laughter. Autumn light is so different from winter. It promises cold but right now there is only warmth. Cats rolled into balls sun themselves; green, gold, rustle; clouds playing with the light.

My heart aches as it always does this time of year. It doesn't matter that I am in Ukraine. Perhaps it is because I know another year of my life is complete--a life that I have engaged and loved. I have no regrets and cherish all of it--great joys, great hurt, little smiles and little slights.  Winter is coming--fall urges me to pay attention, to burrow in, to prepare for nature's sleep--it's hibernation--

To have no regrets,  To end my time, my springs, my summers and Make this, the autumn of my life, golden rich With accents of red love, Warmth not heat, Light that does not blind, A voice that rustles and soothes That I like she  Shall be---always.

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