05 Oct, 2011
In the long stillness between passing cars, the crisp rustle of drying corn whispers across the rolling countryside of central Iowa. A change in light brings the harvest, and nurtured concern turns to diligent action. On the fringes, trees start to wave goodbye to the warmth. Their fingers burn in with age-old wisdom: there is no place to be but here, and no time but now.
Throughout the country, an incredible show has just started. The exposition of natural gifts in this show demands our attention. Sadly, the show often passes through with disappointing attendance. Far be it from me to diminish those numbers. Go—watch the show! I will be brief this week in hopes that you will not miss it.
I recognize that there are parts of the country that watch a different show. In Southern California, the Santa Anas will kick in soon. The Pacific Northwest is starting to see a return to wet weather. The deserts and prairies have their own highlights. Wherever you are, the season has its own surprises that call for your attendance.
There is much to be said for knowing the seasons. With regard to our mental and spiritual health, awareness of the seasons helps us recognize our connection to the planet—through food, water, etc.—and our own limitations. There are activities specific to each season, and our recognition of those activities can make us more aware of who we are and how we relate to both the planet and the divine. In some periods, we rest. That rest prepares us for action when appropriate. Rest transcends categories like physical, emotional, or spiritual. But the widely restorative qualities of rest come when we turn our focus away from the quotidian needs of mindless consumption and restore our connection to the source of all being.
The countryside is full of surprises. As I rode east from Grinnell, I came upon this motochute rider. Oddly inspiring.
Grinnell chaplain's office. Thanks to everyone there!
Knowing the seasons is invaluable. As we look around now, we can see that there is a shift in the state of the planet. We see the numeric shifts of increased atmospheric carbon dioxide and global temperature. We see the changes in polar ice, permafrost, pine forests, and countless other places. We note the increased regularity of severe storms and droughts. The season has changed.
We see these changes, but how do we react? Are we like the Israelites in Jeremiah 8 who refuse to acknowledge the seasons? As the prophet says, “8:7Even the stork in the heavens knows its times; and the turtle-dove, swallow, and crane* observe the time of their coming; but my people do not know the ordinance of the Lord.” Birds know when it is time to migrate. They respond to the change in seasons before those changes might endanger their being. Are we like the birds, or do we require snow on the ground before we accept the winter?
I came across something this week that I probably should have remembered from 8th grade science class, but my rediscovery of it made the forgetting worthwhile. In Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard writes, "If you analyze a molecule of chlorophyll itself, what you get is one hundred thirty-six atoms of hyrdrogen, carbon, oxygen, and nitrogen arranged in an exact and complex relationship around a central ring. At the ring's center is a single atom of magnesium. Now: if you remove the atom of magnesium and in its exact place put an atom of iron, what you get is a molecule of hemoglobin." Amazing!
A friendly pub chat on climate change. Special thanks to my Iowa City hosts Craig and Amy Carey and Paul McCullough for "the establishment of a sort of common spirit, almost an Olympian sort of thing, that is much finer than any one person in it." Here's hoping "the thing concerted and fully and mutually realized by even a few dozen people could not fail to make a better thing of the world."
Thanks again to Countryside Community Church!
Hills of western Iowa-- not to be ignored by the touring cyclist.
The season has changed. Have you seen it? Go—look for it now. Find the deep breath of the autumnal now, and stay with it as long as you can.
Until we meet again
More fully participating in that seasonal now
Than we thought possible
Winding pedestrian bridge into Iowa.
P.S. This week, we have a bonus treat! Thanks to Hunter Perrin and his incredible band Thunderado, we have a video from the send-off at Thad’s back in Los Angeles. You can find out more about Hunter, Thunderado, and all sorts of tasty tunes at http://www.thunderado.com/ or http://www.hunterperrin.com/