Falling leaves, new dawns

Leaves, abandoning their green hues over to reds, oranges and yellows, are now abandoning their grip on the branches that fed them throughout the summer. Gardens are looking bare, gone are bright flowers and the buzzing insects. Days are shorter, cooler. Yet today is a most historic day, a new dawn of sorts for many, a new sort of spring, following the election of the first African-American to the presidency of the United States of America. While no one knows the direction that the country will take, the world itself for that matter, the same would hold true no matter who was elected president. Yet much of the world rejoices because of the hope brought by the new president-elect, by his words of hope, by continually taking the high road, setting a role model for many who forgot the importance of eloquence and belief in others. Many even question if they made the right choice. Of course it's the right choice, if democracy is at heart of our political process. The people have chosen. The decision is right for this moment in time, no matter what comes next. For myself, I realized that I'd been mourning ever since I was a little girl and watched Roots on television alongside my father. It marked me, and I grieved, forever I grieved the injustices of this world. The more I learned about our history, the more I grieved. Today, a new day, some of that grieving has healed, is healing. This is symbolic, I hope for very, very many. I dare hope despite repeated history, for a new dawn, for peace in the world. This week I painted Falling leaves ... but maybe I'll call the painting "New dawn". For the hope that next spring will bring new, beautiful leaves. A shift is happening in the world ... both a visible shift of the seasons, and one not so apparent but even more important ...