English poet John Keats (1795-1821) wrote the famous lines about autumn, ‘’Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, close bosom friend of the maturing sun.’’
Keats was a great poet. His poems are striking and poignant. But the part about autumn—I am not impressed.
Regardless of the lovely shades of yellow, orange, and red adorning trees, ripening fruit, and mists playing chase over the hills—autumn means only one thing to me…cold. It is already colder than it was and it will be getting colder still. I hate cold. I hate being cold. I counter my negative winter thoughts with remembering and singing (to the best of my ability which unfortunately isn’t much) “This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.’’ And I do rejoice in the things that God has made. I do rejoice in the day. Every day that God has made. And I am glad. Over the years I have developed an attitude of gratitude…except for autumn, except for winter, except for cold, except for getting cold or being cold.
I do not like winter. I already don’t like winter this year—and it hasn’t even arrived yet. I’ve memorized Psalm 74:17, “You have made summer and winter.’’ Also Ecclesiastes 3:1, “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.”
But every year when Keats’ season of mists and mellow fruitfulness arrives—I just want to bring back spring.