The autumnal arch, that celestial celebration of color and change,
is drawing near. The cosmic river of time flows forward and empties
into that invisible sea; a sea black and deep and unknowable, filled
with every soul that has ever took breath upon this earth.
Uncountable souls sail the invisible sea; no one escapes it, no one
can avoid it. We will all be sailors on that sea and not one of us
know when our ship is set to sail.
The solstice of summer far behind us, the solstice of winter ahead,
autumn arches a bridge of rainbows between them. Kind and gentle at
its start, harsh and bitter at its end, it is a glorious and
breathtaking journey of color and tradition. Bright, blue,
translucent October skies provide a perfect canopy for the blazing
autumn hills and plains and valleys below. October walks are walks
through majesty unequaled by anything the hand of humanity will ever
create. Even with all its technology and special effects -
humanity's best efforts pale in comparison to a single, brilliant
Seasons come and seasons go but to the invisible sea the river of
time continues to flow and we give it not even a passing thought -
as if pondering it will bring us to its shore sooner than we would
like. We are puppets to the power of time, dancing to its music and
playing to its whims, we all are mere players on the stage of life.
Not one of us is greater than another; not one of us is less than
another. For how can one of us, regardless of color, religion, race,
or nationality, be better or worse than another, when we all float
precariously on the same river and we all end up on that same dark,
unknowable, invisible sea?
It is not the destination, then, that is important, for the
destination is always the same as it has always been. It is the joy
of the journey we must learn to savor. Those who learn to treasure
those transcendent moments of pleasure, love, and memories will be
happy; those who treasure material things, things that rot and rust,
will be forever in conflict over the loss of those things. The
journey for those who treasure unseen things; those wonderful,
ephemeral things of the heart will reach the shore of that invisible
sea at peace with themselves. They will board the ship believing in
unseen things and eager to experience what lies ahead.
Those whose treasures were tangible and material in life will, no
doubt, rage against that sea, their anger and fury insignificant in
the smothering silence of that ultimate darkness. Yet they will
board that ship and take whatever journey they have earned, just the
same. Whether kicking and screaming and raging against the
inevitable, they will be bound and thrown onto the ship - unwilling
passengers on the invisible sea. Alone in the darkness, material
things stripped from them, these empty souls will be sailors on that
The autumnal arch stretches before us, a temporal bridge between the
seasons. Let us walk though it together, and enjoy the journey for
its own sake - oblivious to the destination.