The transition between summer and winter in Ireland is always something to be marveled at. I mean, at the best of times, we don't really have set seasons here. You can get all of them in a day - and by all I mean 27, because let's face it, there definitely isn't just 4.
Autumn can be gentle - dreamy mornings of fog and dew lined spider webs. Or it can be violent - gale force winds howling while multicolored leaves do a jig across the lawn.
YOU must be grounded to embrace Irish wind - it really is a force of nature. Turning on and off quite suddenly at times.
And with it, comes the casualties. This is some lovely (but way too tall) willow at the back of my studio. When it is windy, and sunny, the willow dances and casts the most marvelous shadows and dappled light. But for such a spindly, bendable tree, it doesn't fare well in the wind. Two weeks ago, there was another large branch on the far side broken by the wind. But, while it looks slightly desperate, it doesn't seem to bother the willow one bit - it just sends out new shoots, coppices, and gets on with it.
When I was having my tea this morning, far too early, it was still dark out, in the pale light just creeping in, I saw the MOST spectacular elegant wonderful Mr. Heron being blown about in flight. He just about managed to steer himself in a tight circle to land, quite gracefully, in our pond. I haven't seen one for too long, so I was ecstatic, as you can well imagine.
I think life - like the wind - is an unpredictable creature. Sometimes it can blow us off course, and we land somewhere we hadn't intended. It can flatten us, we are on the ground, not able to get back up.
But we are SO able. Nature shows us that. And we are a part of nature (no matter how much technology comes in to our lives, we are not machines, not yet anyway).
We can grow and send out new shoots. We can lift ourselves back up in different ways. Take another route. Try something different. Look at it from a different angle. If you are rooted, you can still grow, even when you fall.
And who's to say that where you land isn't just as lovely as where you thought you were going? It's a detour, but you don't have to stay there forever.
Make the most of everything. Even the 'bad' things.