I just visited my hometown and my mother’s grave. She died when I was 12, she was 40. I thought about the years she missed living.

      I myself am extremely grateful that I have lived a relatively healthy and prosperous 74 years. In the past three months, four of my close friends have had encounters with frightening death experiences. Three have survived but one is still in the ICU, expecting to recover.

      Life can be predictable but is ever-changing—just like the seasons. As autumn yet again comes into view, I remind myself I may have 20 more seasons where the multitude of lush greens turn into bright reds, yellows and oranges to titillate and inspire the human heart and prepare us for what is to follow.

      When the first leaf falls from the giant maples outside our home, we begin to work like busy bees to prepare for the steely cold winter winds of the north country. Primarily, heat is our foremost concern, so we get busy stacking six cords of dry hardwood into the basement.

      There is nothing more exciting than the day the winter comforters get washed and returned to the beds. The memories of when and where they came from in years past provides comfort —that is why they are called comforters.

      As our time on this Earth is moving from our earlier years filled with unknowns and great hopes for our futures, we now know what our lives are and what they have been. There isn’t really any mystery to it at all, is there? And I find that a great place to be.

      Looking ahead to the rest of my day, I am walking across the meadow taking in deep invigorating breaths. I am smelling the air filled with the scent of wildflowers gone to seed. Looking out at the once very green mountains, they are now a radiant explosive palate of magnificent sun-kissed colors.

      My steps feel light. The child within me is erupting with such joy and exhilaration. I have made it to this moment—there is so much time behind and yet still so much time ahead.

      Isn’t it grand, isn’t it fabulous to know that we have arrived at this space, this place, in this time to participate in living?

      Judy Collins rings in my brain: “And the seasons they go round and round and the painted pony goes up and down, we are captured in a carousel of time.”

      Embrace every moment and let us celebrate that we are still alive on this magnificent planet that guides us through these glorious colors and vibrant hues of time because this is the autumn of our lives.