Summer has ended here in the West Virginian mountains, and most of the trees have already shed their leaves for winter. Like most West Virginians, I can give a thousand reasons as to why each season is my favorite. There's something that tugs at my spiritual heartstrings when I witness the rebirth of nature and the return of color to our hills in the spring. There's a rush of anticipation, the renewal of grand potential, and an excitement for the upcoming warm, bright days that is contagious in my hometown. Summer not only houses days full of sunlight but also warm nights perfect for stargazing. It is a season full of outdoor activities: hiking, camping, river swimming, and horseback riding. A chance to release the conserved energy from winter, summer, to me is freedom. By September, anxiety over the coming winter sets in. I frantically spend every good day outdoors, knowing that the weather will turn soon enough. I dread the impending cold, dark nights and shorter days, the preparation for nature's extended slumber, and the cold cold cold. This anxiety, however, is short lived, and October arrives spreading a patch quilt of scarlet, gold, pumpkin and sunshine over my once green mountains. The Mountain State Forest Festival comes and goes, the colorful mountains peak mid-month, and then the autumnal rains begin to fall, loosing the leaves until the mountains stand bare. And so begins my favorite two months of the calendar year. I love Thanksgiving as much as I love Christmas, and the time seems to blend from one season into the next. I've already spent time talking to coworkers about holiday decorations this year. And of course, as we begin to greet the holidays this year, my banking customers have already been telling me in their sometimes charming country accents, "Yup, winter's a comin', dear, yu'll see." (It would be more entertaining if they realized the TV/Book nerd inside of me rejoiced at hearing the Stark family phrase fifty plus times a day. Alas, most of them have never even heard of Game of Thrones, let alone the genius that created the Starks' world.) Soon the snow will fly and my customers will move onto a new favorite phrase that can only be considered witty the first ten times I hear it.
This weekend Halloween arrives, bringing with it a new beginning for two of my close friends, an evening to enjoy good music and good company, and an unfortunate anniversary.
For one year, this small candle has been a sentinel to my "English-major-encouragement" fairy, a reminder of an evening spent amidst a crowd of grieving college students, acquaintances and friends. I'll never forget that candlelight vigil. I hope no one else in this world ever has to harbor the memories of mourning a lost friend, memories that I know every person at that vigil will carry for the rest of their lives. Today has been a tough day, not because of work or weekend plans or from planning my "big picture," but because I have experienced one whole year that a friend of mine will never get to experience. He didn't get to graduate, to spend the holidays with his family, or go camping with friends after the summer arrived. But I did. Today I thought about all those things I've done, those things he won't be able to do, and the talent, the wonderful personality, that was lost on this night last year. My heart broke all over again for the family, the close friends, and the world to lose such a wonderful person. His candle stays next to my inspiration, reminding me that if I want to make even a fraction of the mark he left on this world, I cannot give up on my dreams as absurd as they may be.
This season, and all the others in the future, give me the chance to be who I really want to be. I must keep writing my stories and riding those horses. I must remember how lucky I am to have what some never will- time.
