fall

hills west of montpelier I-91

burning brush at destiny

it's fall in new england. it's late this year encouraging bumper crops, october barbeques, and dismayed leaf peepers. i love the fall. it feels like one big joyous funeral to me. the difference, i suppose, between an individual's funeral and this natural spectacle is that more or less everyone agrees the dead will be resurrected in the spring. in hinduism and buddhism that belief holds true for individuals as well. i've never been to a buddhist or hindu funeral, but perhaps they have a similar feeling to fall. imagine what the world would be like if nothing died and nothing was born. i guess that would be perfection in some sense, but how awfully boring it would be. our universe—our whole existence—is rooted in coming and going. without that foundation what would we be? gods i suppose, and probably bored. think of the ennui and angst of the angels in wings of desire. i remember a talking heads song from college days: "Heaven is a place where nothing happens." happy joyous melancholy funerial fall!