Actually, being the prude I am, this is not referring to my body. It is a reference to the trees of late autumn slowly becoming bare as breeze and winter take hold.
Now only the most tenacious leaves cling to to their branches, and barren, gray tree trunks abound. In this new place near the lake, I thought I would feel cold and empty as winter approaches.
But instead, the nakedness of it all opens up vistas never seen in summer. Suddenly all the little wood cabins and large expensive homes appear without cover. As I walk or drive on the two-lane road bordering the lake, now I see through the open woods to the water and up the hillsides.
Always the seasons of the natural world hold lessons for the seasons of our lives. I see that the spectacular golden autumn passes in an instant to the gray barren openness. It is refreshing and without guise instead of frightening or without comfort.
In our manicured neighborhoods where leaves kill lawn and all must be carefully tended, we lose sight of the true cycles of Nature. I loved being here in these woods, very near whatever I need in town, but just far away enough to let Nature have her way. It is freeing. It is naked relief.
The frost of the past nights has wilted my few potted plants as I did not know to bring them in for the winter. Or, I had an inkling but stubbornly wanted to let all run its course. There will be new life in the spring, and I will awaken to new shoots and new growth in due time.
Right now I witness the letting go, the wilting and preparation for winter sleep, the readiness of lying fallow.
Thank you, God.