Turning a New Leaf

It has rolled around once again - the autumn season of 2011, or more appropriately here in Ontario: the fall.  I watch the changing of the guard from green to all the hues of yellow, orange, amber, red and brown, as trees clothe themselves in the colours of the new season.  As they shrug off la mode outre and don the new, it makes me aware of possibilities. 

That crisp fall air smells like apples, pumpkin pie, and rain-splashed gardens.  It is a portent of events to come.  It means winter snow and Christmas are not far away and serves as a warning to get your house in order for year end.  Birds ready themselves in a flurry of activity, swirling overhead in great flocks practicing for their run to hotter climes.  Paris fashion models strut their stuff with the new lines of the new season.  Farmers markets are stocked with colourful, fat, fresh off the farm produce. 

The autumn wind whips up waves in Burlington Bay, spraying cold drops in the hair and faces of unsuspecting passersby on the boardwalk.  In great gusts, it does its best to denude the trees of their foliage as quickly as possible.  It too is a portent for change.

Fall is, appropriately, the start of a new school year for students all across North America.  Schoolchildren and their teachers have the opportunity for the renewed verve and energy that comes with new books, sharp pencils and new clothes.   I am glad to be part of that phalanx.

The cycle of the seasons reminds me that autumn does not necessarily represent the end in absolute finality, but really a beginning - a chance for renewal and rebirth, and a chance to change. It reminds me to be flexible and to be hopeful.

All of us can turn to a new page, like turning a new leaf - we can unfold potential and possibilities.