Autumn

The leaves are just starting to turn here. Outside my window you can see the trees lining E street grasping their last rays of summer, holding firm to the green, struggling to release none of themselves to the golden brown that is creeping in. The sidewalks are stained by their outline, some having already succumbed to their time.

It's still warm, but you can feel the change. You can feel this restlessness of autumn. It's beautiful. The sun shines at an angle, warming in the face, with the coolness of the shade foreshadowing the winter to come. 

Tonight a harvest moon has made an appearance over the peak of the Washington Memorial. For the first time it feels a little like home. 

I have always said autumn brings promise for me. Hope. It has been a time of hinting at what is to come. More than spring it bears a sense of purpose. This year is different. This year I am charmed not by the peace of death in it's time, but instead I am lulled by the peace and quiet of it. Outside the nighttime rush is at peak. College students rush off to who knows where, cars are bustling and sirens go off at regular increments of about 30 seconds, but there is quietness. Hiddenness I can't explain. As though the moon in the haze of the evening cloud cover.

I am wooed by the Presence. Peace settles over, and in a place I don't know, I am tucked away. I am under a Wing in a place somewhere unknown to even me. I am not in DC, I am in Him. 

It's hard to explain, but for the first time that is okay. Sequestered away from all I have known, I take pleasure in the anonymity. Tied to the past through the internet, and all the commodities of the information age, when I turn them off, I am alone. The delight of seclusion is intoxicating. No longer lonely, it is welcomed. 

Years of pursuit, and for once, I feel as though blindly I followed the right path. Or maybe it wasn't so blindly. Maybe it was exactly as it had to be. Maybe it was all purposed from the beginning of time. Somewhere in the Good Book it speaks of Him coming at "the fullness of time." Perhaps that's what I have been waiting for. My fullness of time. Maybe that is what we are all waiting for. Our individual moments of fulfillment. And maybe, just maybe it can only be then. It can only be in that moment, because if it wasn't, it would be what it is supposed to be... full. Perfect. Promising. Peaceful. 

Hmph.