Fall has arrived! Crisp, clear days and cool, mild nights. Visually, everything appears so vivid this time of year with less moisture and hovering dust in the air to blur the sharp contrast of edges. Our skin may cry out for hydration, but there is the reward of amazingly distinct images in nature. Yesterday morning as I ran through the canyon a buck with a huge rack and a petite doe moved away into the brush, but paused to look back. Rutting season, I pondered, and picked up my gait again.

            Each season brings change and a new opportunity to alter the lens we look through. The cooler temperatures bring death to deciduous leaves and a striking shift in colors. And then they fall off the trees, dead. The ensuing compost and soil this creates occurs during ‘the dead’ of winter so by spring the world appears new again and full of possibilities. What a beautiful, natural cycle. But if we only see a portion of this circle of life, and fail to allow ourselves to keep seeing and trying to understand, then we miss out on the richness of the whole. It feels to me like this is akin to what is happening all around the world right now, and even in our communities and families.

            Perhaps I’m missing something, and indeed I am. My heart sinks every time someone in conversation chimes in with phrases like, “You always…” or “I’ll never…” Immediately the discussion is no longer a conversation, but a diatribe of one’s opinion without taking the other’s feelings, or new ideas, into consideration. I miss heart-to-heart conversations where both individuals are honestly and openly interested in what the other has to say, without forging ahead with assumptions and putting up a wall because that other person feels and believes differently. How can we ever be productive in moving forward peacefully if we can’t try to meet on some common ground? I really hope this is possible. If both sides are waiting for the other side to do it first then it seems like we’re in a losing battle.

            There are too many shades of gray to lump everyone into either this group or that group. These labels, at least in my humble opinion, have to FALL to start with. I love connecting with individuals from all sides and finding our common ground in order to work together through our differences. I’ve had it with the arguing and the spewing of anger that is rampant on all fronts. Why not instead, strip things down to what we humans have in common? The rest is just beliefs and opinions. Let’s create togetherness.

            As winter approaches, and nature seems to stop or slow down, let’s not get stuck where each of us is right now. Everything evolves and changes, and new information which might alter our perceptions often comes along. I hope to be open to it so I can grow and make allowances for shifts in my perspective. With luck and serious diligence, I’d like to never say “never”— and to have open and cordial conversations with each of you. I’ll see you around, my friend.

Chi Varnado has four recently published books. The Old House in the Country, women’s fiction; and three YA novels in The Dance Centre Presents series. Her memoir, A CANYON TRILOGY: Life Before, During and After the Cedar Fire, and her children’s book, The Tale of Broken Tail, are also available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com or www.dancecentrepresents.com.