Like the changing season, I must go with the steady flow

Fall — that time of year when you have those moments.

This year it seemed to start too early. Or more likely it was just my mindset at the time. When I had that moment. When nature puts you on pause.

It was early August. I was outside. My eyes were pulled to a single leaf doing a slow-mo tumble down to my very green, grassy yard. (Plenty of mowing still ahead. Still summer.)

Leaves fall all the time. Every time I mow I am mulching a few. But this single leaf felt different.

I watched its peaceful spiral and thus the moment. The pause when I began to appreciate its purpose. Nature was telling me things are about to change. When a new season begins you sense it more than you see it.

It’s magical, but not mysterious. Of course, I know what’s coming. The Midwest’s mood swings of nature. After decades of flowing with this tide, I expect few surprises.

It’s more exciting when you’re young. We charge through the seasons with suits of armor. Swimming trunks and barefoot to hooded parkas with woolen socks shoved into heavy boots. Roller skates to ice skates. Sunburn to snow angels and frosted fingers and rosy cheeks.

For me that young energy has waned. But even now, after so many years of rotating through the seasons, I can’t help but get caught up in the sweep of change.

And I always feel some need to prepare for what’s ahead. But it’s more than packing away summer and hauling out the snow brushes, heavy coats and gloves.

There’s no sense of urgency, but there is this underlying feeling that I need to be ready. No, not for the radical changes in temperatures or road conditions. It’s something deeper.

I began to feel it when I watched that leaf on its final mission. Ahead of its time, I thought, but paving the way. Soon there will be a flurry of leaves cluttering the ground.

Ahead of its time, as if it made that choice, the time to let go. Perhaps a beckoning to surrounding trees.

They make it look so easy — the letting go. The acceptance of fate. The understanding that nature has a clock. And when it is time they are ready.

It’s built into their chemistry. They let go so others will follow. They let go to ease a burden, to allow the tree to slow its growth and adapt to bitter cold with less water and sunlight.

They let go so trees can slide into dormancy and reserve energy to stay alive and flourish in the spring. A predictable cycle of life, season to season. With a clear purpose that’s easy to see. And relate to.

The seasons are notches on a big spinning wheel. When I was young it was a carnival ride. Now it feels like a grist mill, crunching time.

Like the leaves, I accept this creep of time ... toward my time to let go. I appreciate the endurance of the cycle, the constant spin. And relish that I am part of it.

And this fall, like every fall, I am reminded of the beauty — and spectacle — of letting go.

And that is comforting.

• Lonny Cain, retired managing editor of The Times in Ottawa, also was a reporter for The Herald-News in Joliet in the 1970s. His Paperwork email is lonnyjcain@gmail.com. Or mail The Times, 110 W. Jefferson St., Ottawa, IL 61350.