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Which is your favorite season? I’ve always found it difficult to answer that question. As one who loves the beauty and variety that the universe offers throughout the cycles and seasons of the year, I find answering as difficult as though someone had asked, “who is your favorite child?”

The answer is difficult; but I must admit that, if I am honest, it is “Autumn.”

There is a peculiar and paradoxical feeling that comes over me at the changing time of Fall.  Fall is a flicker of light, a splash of color, a hot and steamy afternoon, a cold and chilling morning. In the tapestry of the year that draws to a close, Autumn is the thread that stitches it all together – the bright sun of summer, the fresh green of spring, and the cold wind of winter all meet in Autumn days that showcase, review, and commit to memory yet another journey around the circle of the seasons.

On this overcast morning, in my backyard world, I discovered a meeting born of Fall – morning glories and moonflowers blooming together on the arbor designed to celebrate their uniqueness – one vine on the left and one on the right, so that one or the other is always blooming to delight me no matter when I pause to sit and reflect.

But here they were – ruler of the daylight and ruler of the night, blooming side by side in the ambiguous and overcast morning. They reminded me to take in Autumn and love it completely. They reminded me of all the contrasts we accept in our world each day – living and dead, warm and cold, day and night, near and far – and how this season, my favorite, brings the balance to the center and challenges us to believe that the differences we define may be more similar than we know.

Like two neighbors – one of whom works the night shift, and one who chooses the daytime – the moonflower and the morning glory crossed paths today. Each was reminded that the other exists. Each had a fresh look at the life of the other. Perhaps they discovered that they are more alike than they are different.

If Autumn is my favorite season, I suppose it is paradoxical collisions like this one that drive me to love it so dearly. I must go now and sit on the small bench in the center of the arbor. I must feel the merger of day and night, of challenged boundaries, of Autumn. Once again, I must take it all in before I blink and discover that the stitching is done and only memories remain.

Yes, my favorite season is Autumn.