THE autumn equinox has come and gone. There's a chill in the air and the nights draw in.
Everywhere you look, villages and towns carry posters of their firework night. Yes, we cannot deny it, summer is over.
It's that time of the year with a nostalgic hint of reflective melancholy. Why is that?
It can't be the mere passing of another season, because we know that spring comes after autumn and winter, and spring brings new life and growth.
And even if autumn heralds green leaves turning to brown, there is an inescapable beauty in the colours.
I rather wonder whether it's because, sub-consciously, we see autumn as a metaphor for fading years and declining strength.
Maybe we feel that the spring-time energy and vigour of youth has long gone and even the settled maturity of summer is now disappearing.
And yet autumn is the season of fruitfulness.
Instead of seeing autumn as representing people over the hill and on a downward slide, shouldn't we think of it describing someone reaching the pinnacle of fruitful maturity?
This is not about energy and achievements, but about character. Less about what we do, and more about what we are.
Does autumn represent us calcifying into miserable, ill-tempered people with deeply ingrained behaviours that most people find repellent? Or is it a time when our disposition becomes sweeter and more attractive with age?
The Bible talks of the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
This comes from a heart that is right with God. Being forgiven may be the starting point of the Christian life, but if there is any genuineness about this, it has to lead to the fruitfulness of a glorious autumn.
Paul Mackrell
Lay preacher and former minister