Aequus Nox

And if Pera is having difficulty today relating to those around her what does it matter? Today she turns her head upward and drinks in the last of the summer sun. It’s moved away toward the equator and the angle of its once brutal rays now only has the power to project a gauzy silence in the orchard’s treetops. Insects, quieted a bit by the change in season, busily finish their life’s work knowing time is short. The earth explodes upwards and calls for harvest. Pera, feet on the ground—head in the sky, always the dreamer. Around her a slice of humanity seems to race about picking out boxes of apples, pears, and peaches. Some in hand, gobbled up greedily, the goodness trickles down the throat and slops onto t-shirts but most will become jams, ciders, and pies; their benefit realized in the dead of winter. Today is marked by smiles and laughter, a joyful gift from God. A cool little breeze, a reminder really, causes Pera to shiver as it rustles through her greenery. Content in her place, she lifts a song to her Creator:

I looked up the other day

To see the birds had flown away

Fall had come and brought a winter chill

Left her signature on the windowsill

Windblown messengers, red and gold

Repeat the story yearly told

Fragile acrobats in the sky

Twisting, twirling: they dance, they die

Born in the air to catch the sun

They return to earth when their lives are done

Much like the one who knows Christ the Son

Must lose their life to know He’s won

How beautiful when life begins

How full of grace when near the end

This is the day, she reminds anyone willing to listen, that the Lord has made. Rejoice and be glad in it. Grace abounds, let it saturate your being—draw it in like rain. Lift up your eyes to the hills. And where does your help come from, O man? From the Lord of course, He’s been there all along. Through winter’s bitter crush and summer’s lightning the Lord has brought you through to peace. He will again, you know.

A happy farm dog, tired of chasing about the feet of customers comes and lies at Pera’s feet. Panting and grateful for a little shade, he doesn’t stay long. In the dirt parking lot a whole caboodle of children, spilling out of a station wagon, needs to be met with his doggy smile and wagging tail. There might be faces to lick or carelessly dropped bits of food to eat. Everything about him says, “I’m on it!” and so he is, giving up his respite in favor of the promise of treats. Pera tolerates him at best and doesn't mind his quick departure.

The owner of the orchard looks up from the cash register and with a sigh looks out beyond the open doorway. Pera is beautiful. Not because she stands out as such but just the opposite. How beautiful to be in the place God intended for you. Pera, seemingly unaware of the owner’s gaze, is just happy to be. The owner’s wife gives him a playful poke in the ribs and directs him back to his customers. She knows his heart is in the orchard.

And if Pera is having difficulty today relating to those around her what does it matter? Distracted Pera, the birds in her thoughts raise their carols declaring their Maker's praise. Quietly engaged in the scene about her yet apart in their songs, she drifts on an ocean of green that stretches across the valley floor. The mountains and hills roll in like breakers, slow as glaciers. Her silent praises go out with joy. The Comforter, her comforter, walks in this orchard. He sings, the few remaining birds hush recognizing the melody He gave them. Hearts ring and He tarries a moment. And all the trees of the field clapped their hands.

Copyright September 2010, John P. Van Dusen
The painting is, "Pear Tree" by Gustav Klimt , 1903