Our hair turns white with our ripening as though to fly away in some coming wind, bearing the seed of what we know… Having come the bitter way to better prayer, we have the sweetness of ripening. ~Wendell Berry in “Ripening”
My husband and I walk our country road together on a warm late summer evening, breathing in the smell of ripening cornstalks and freshly mowed grass lined up in windrows, much like the walks we took together nearly thirty years ago when we were newly married. Just down the road, we pass the smaller farm we first owned having left the city behind for a new life amid quieter surroundings. The seedling trees we planted there are now a thick grove and effective windbreak from the bitter howling northeasters we endured. The fences need work after 25 years, the blackberries have swallowed up the small barn where our first horses, goats, chickens and cows lived, the house needs painting, nevertheless there is such sweetness recalling the first home we owned together.
On this road, our children were conceived and raised, strolling these same steps with us many times, but now flown thousands of miles away for their life’s work. My husband and I are back to walking together again, just the two of us, wondering how each child is doing at this very moment, pondering how the passage of time could be so swift that our hair is turning white and we are going to seed when only yesterday we were so young.
We ripen before we’re ready.
It is bitter sweetness relinquishing what we know, to face what we can never know.
It is the mystery that keeps us coming back, walking the same steps those younger legs once did, admiring the same setting sun, smelling the same late summer smells. But we are not the same as we were, having finally come to the fruitfulness intended all along.
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant -- Emily Dickinson
A life well lived is no flat passage.
There are bumps and hollows,
pinnacles and valleys.
Looking up from the path,
beyond the next step,
it can be surprising to see
where the road is leading:
sometimes straight up into the blue,
sometimes a plunge into an abyss.
Living slant is each step taken
with eyes focused forward--
no looking back;
even if the climb exhausts
the descent precipitous,
treading unafraid to reach
a destination unknown
Live all of life but live it slant.