I, too, enjoy August. I enjoy every month of summer.
What you call nostalgia at this time of year has much to do with the falling leaves indeed. Autumn is an ending. The fields are cleared, the harvest is over, the leaves turn colors and fall, and life goes dormant. Dormancy is a kind of death. In the Jewish and Celtic traditions, autumn is the end of the year. The Jewish high holy days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are times of reflection as the new year begins and we atone for the year past. This time of reflection is basically genetic. To come to an end and not reflect or feel nostalgic is to be entirely shut off from our nature and from nature itself.
Ah, but to feel this and not feel regret - this is better than good, this is what we all hope for. A life well lived.
Rilke is one of my favorite poets, but amazingly, I wasn't familiar with this poem. Thank you. And perhaps you know T.S. Eliot's poem, Little Gidding? Also a favorite, with a line that has instructed my life for decades: "To make a beginning is to make an end. The end is where we start from."
Ah, Little Gidding from The Four Quartets! I'm so glad you're reading it! I was introduced to that in my first semester in college (1985) and I've gone back to it over and over and over again through my life. So much there to unpack!! And yes, your Celtic roots... that may also be what draws you to the land (Alaska) - not exactly Great Britain but much closer in landscape than the east coast.
I, too, enjoy August. I enjoy every month of summer.
What you call nostalgia at this time of year has much to do with the falling leaves indeed. Autumn is an ending. The fields are cleared, the harvest is over, the leaves turn colors and fall, and life goes dormant. Dormancy is a kind of death. In the Jewish and Celtic traditions, autumn is the end of the year. The Jewish high holy days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are times of reflection as the new year begins and we atone for the year past. This time of reflection is basically genetic. To come to an end and not reflect or feel nostalgic is to be entirely shut off from our nature and from nature itself.
Ah, but to feel this and not feel regret - this is better than good, this is what we all hope for. A life well lived.
Rilke is one of my favorite poets, but amazingly, I wasn't familiar with this poem. Thank you. And perhaps you know T.S. Eliot's poem, Little Gidding? Also a favorite, with a line that has instructed my life for decades: "To make a beginning is to make an end. The end is where we start from."
Cheers to this season!
I love these thoughts--perhaps it's my un-examined Celtic roots that pull me, too. Am slowly reading the Eliot poem. Thank you, Jan!
Ah, Little Gidding from The Four Quartets! I'm so glad you're reading it! I was introduced to that in my first semester in college (1985) and I've gone back to it over and over and over again through my life. So much there to unpack!! And yes, your Celtic roots... that may also be what draws you to the land (Alaska) - not exactly Great Britain but much closer in landscape than the east coast.
^mind is blown