Evening star

The Danish American Center in Minneapolis recently held its annual meeting. Being relatively new to this organization, I attended for the first time.

 

Danes love to sing, so we opened the meeting with a folksy-type song and ended with another, each written by a Danish composer.

The first song talked about oats. Sung from the oat's perspective, the lyrics spoke of all the things the oats see (sun, wind, rain) and the many uses oats have. It was snappy and fun to sing.
 

 

 

The second called Evening Star (printed above) was written in 1861. It had an easy melody for me, a non-singer and reader of music, to follow.

But it was the words that really spoke to me. They stuck in my head and I had to borrow a songbook from the center so I could copy this particular song.

Danish people see the beauty and prose in all of nature. Thinking you might enjoy the lessons in this lovely song, I share the words with you here.

" Evening star up yonder, Teach me like you to wander 

Willing and obediently, The path that God ordained for me.

Evening star up yonder!

 

Teach me, gentle flowers, To wait for springtime showers

In this winter world to grow, Green and strong beneath the snow.

Teach me, gentle flowers!

 

Teach me, lonely heather, Where songbirds nest together,

Though my life should seem unblest, To keep a song within my breast.

Teach me, lonely heather.

 

Mighty ocean, teach me, To do the task that needs me,

And reflect as days depart, Heaven's peace within my heart.

Mighty ocean, teach me!

 

Shady lanes, refreshing, Teach me to be a blessing

To some weary soul each day, Friends or foes who pass my way.

Shady lanes, refreshing!

 

Evening sun, descending, Teach me, when life is ending,

Night shall pass and I, like you, Shall rise again where life is new.
Teach me, sun descending! "

 

 

As the seasons change, now from summer to autumn, and the days grow shorter, nature is a wonder and can teach us so much. Each season has its purpose and its beauty. We can learn, as the song tells us, from the ocean, the heather, the sun and the shady lane.

When I once commented that there wasn't anything I liked about winter, a friend very poetically told me it was such a beautiful season, with all the trees and flowers and earth enjoying a peaceful rest, quietly readying themselves to burst forth and be alive again.

 

I've never looked at it quite the same since.

The wisdom of the seasons

The leaves on the tree outside my window are gently falling as I write.


The chrysanthemums and marigolds are in full bloom. Front porches on my street are decorated with pumpkins, gourds and bales of hay. A basket of sweet honey crisp apples adorns my kitchen counter.

It is autumn. In all its splendor.

The seasons are wise. Either they follow the signals of our bodies, or we follow them. Whichever the case, there is harmony in honoring each season.

For example, we seem to come alive in the springtime. The sun warms the earth, and the days grow longer. Flowers bloom, trees bud, there is color everywhere, and love is in the air. We are energized.

Summer brings a combination of adventure and a bit of laziness. Lounging on beaches, sipping lemonade, planning vacations or weekend get-aways. Parades, town festivals, barbecue grilling and dining on outdoor patios, S'mores at dusk, fireworks.

Winter is often dreaded where I live in Minnesota. Icy roads cause treacherous driving conditions, and our entire wardrobes are based on layers of sweaters, coats, boots, scarves, mittens.

But the beauty of freshly fallen snow, frosty window panes, and snow settled on evergreen branches is magnificent. It's time for fireplaces, cocoa, marshmallows, afghans. There isn't a better time for knitting or scrapbooking, stitching, or curling up with a good book.

Since I am a spring and summer lover, I always looked at autumn as the end of things; a signal that winter was approaching. In Minnesota, it can be a very long winter. For ski lovers and snowmobilers, it is most welcome. But not for me.

Then a friend very poetically told me that the real beauty of autumn, aside from its glorious colors of red, oranges and yellows, lies in the earth's ability to rest. And to know rest is needed. Like every living thing. Like everybody.

Now, when I see the leaves gently falling from the trees, I look at the bare branches and think: rest, o weary one. You have endured wind, rain and sun to provide shade. You've provided birds a place to nest, squirrels a place to climb, and a place for them to get nutrients to sustain life. And you have shared with us the beauty of your greenery.

And it gives me permission to rest. To wind down a bit. To prepare myself for yet another year of seasons. To start over again.

All of the seasons are refreshing and new each time they come around in their cycle. I think it is a marvel.

Wherever you are in this world, whatever your season: pause and enjoy. Each season. Each day.