Yesterday afternoon there was a fierce rainstorm. Within minutes, the sky blackened, sheets of rain pelted down and trees thrashed in the sudden wind.
I was at Turvey Abbey, and later in the afternoon, after the storm had quietened and true dark had fallen, I went over from the guest house to the chapel for Vespers.
As I walked along the narrow path through the trees, I realised that the brief storm had brought down many more leaves, and I could see them glinting wetly, reflecting lamplight.
But I was struck most strongly by the smell in the air: an electric wetness, vibrantly cold, the brown pungency of leaf mould rising from the ground like an earthy incense.
And then at Vespers we sang Psalm 140:
I have called to you, Lord; hasten to help me!
Hear my voice when I cry to you.
Let my prayer arise before you like incense,
the raising of my hands like an evening oblation.
As our part of the earth prepares for the cold depths of winter, I’m reminded of the scene at Bethany, when Christ was anointed with costly ointment.
Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me … When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial.
Matthew 26 10,12
The earth anoints and consecrates itself in preparation for the death of winter. How can we prepare ourselves to go deeper into the sacredness of the seasons?
{ 1 trackback }
{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
Elaine 11.09.07 at 11:36 am
About an hour ago (2:30 am PST) the heavy rain against my bedroom window woke me up. I wasn’t able to fall asleep again so here I am, reading your blog. After reading your vivid post, I had to go open my balcony door, sniff deeply, and feel the scent and coolness upon my face. It is a lovely incense.
I think pondering your question is going to keep me awake for the rest of the night — just kidding. Finally, my eyes are beginning to feel heavy. One more sniff of the rain-soaked air should lull me to sleep.
But seriously, I do love your question and I’m going to work on the answer(s).
Tess 11.09.07 at 11:52 am
Oh dear, I’m going to work on a really boring post you can read when you need to sleep!! Thanks for the comment.
HeyJules 11.09.07 at 1:28 pm
Amazing analogy Tess. I really love the way you think.
Tess 11.09.07 at 7:03 pm
Thanks Jules. I see it a bit like a jig-saw - I come across pieces that look as if they would fit and then it’s just a question of putting the edges together.
lisa 11.09.07 at 10:02 pm
I spent some time today watching leaves fall off the tree just outside my bedroom window. It was a slow-motion shower in shades of gold, slowly carpeting the ground.
As we shed our clothes to prepare for bed, this tree has shed it’s leaves to prepare for it’s long winter nap. The world is getting sleepy outside. This is definitely my favorite time of year.
Barbara 11.10.07 at 6:56 pm
A very evocative post. Around here (Quebec) the leaves are mostly down now. The smell of molding leaves and the wet earth beneath is, indeed, a kind of incense — and one I prefer to the kind at church.
Tess 11.11.07 at 8:57 am
Lisa, that’s a lovely analogy, as we prepare for our mini-hibernation each night.
Barbara, I like both kinds of incense, but there’s something special about the seasonal ones.