Fading

This afternoon's fading light captivated me, drawing me out for a walk around campus on a calm, chilly afternoon. With sunset now well before 5pm, and Thanksgiving right around the corner, I can feel the year winding down. What I've taken to calling "the heart of autumn"– when frost-hardened leaves skitter down pavement before equally crisp breezes, when the cirrus swirls and creeping twilight seem to trace the vestiges of light being drawn into lengthening nights– brings into clarity the flickering of my own spirit as a challenging and sometimes turbulent year approaches its final month.

The liturgical season of Advent– the beginning of the Catholic Church's liturgical year– arrives next Sunday. For me, it's as important as a new calendar year, though my observance of it is much more subtle than the midnight celebrations that usher in the first of January. It's a time for me to hear and pray with readings that speak of peace and joy, imagery that radiates light, and warm gatherings of the faithful that counteract the cold gloom of isolation. As much as I'm looking forward to turkey and homemade stuffing, my aunt's sweet potato casserole, and the company of my extended family over Thanksgiving, I'm gently anticipating the nourishment offered by Advent, and a fresh acceptance of the call to live in faith, hope, and love.