THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK: Offaly columnist reflects on the mystery and majesty of Autumn

THERE is something deeply moving about autumn. The mornings are wrapped in mist, the evenings arrive more quickly, and the world seems bathed in golden light. The trees put on their finest robes of scarlet, amber, russet, and gold, before surrendering their leaves to the wind. Each leaf becomes a flame, and together they set the landscape alight in splendour. Walking down a country lane this past week, I found myself slowing down to simply notice. I was greeted by the full bloom of autumn. The colours were vibrant, a fleeting symphony of reds, golds, and ambers, a taste of beauty before the gray of winter descends. As I walked, the leaves crunched beneath my feet, and above me the branches arched like a cathedral roof painted by the hand of God. In that moment I thought of the psalmist’s words: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands” (Psalm 19:1). Creation truly preaches a sermon if we take the time to listen.

Letting go

Autumn is a time for letting go. Living a life of detachment, releasing what has run its course brings life rather than loss. Letting go is not failure; it is an acknowledgment that seasons change, that endings make way for beginnings. For me, walking is a form of prayer. As I strolled, the Season of Creation in September became my meditation. I felt the tension between the Earth’s splendor and the destruction humankind has inflicted: the burning world because of so many wars and conflicts, rising seas threatening coastal communities, droughts, floods, and species vanishing at an alarming pace.

Seamus Heaney’s words came to mind: "Wind shakes the big poplar, quicksilvering. The whole tree in a single sweep. What bright scale fell and left this needle quivering? What loaded balances have come to grief?" Most mornings, I walk with full awareness, listening to the wisdom of the seasons. Walking is a pilgrimage, a spiritual practice reminding me to engage life fully, to face challenges, embrace joy, and care for those in need. Change is everywhere, societal shifts, personal losses, children leaving home, or our own health waning, but amid these transformations, one constant remains, the eternal presence of God. This is a season that asks us to pause, to slow down, to let go, to notice. Creation itself is God’s homily: beauty, fragility, change, and promise woven together.

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Lessons from the leaves

The falling leaves speak to us of release. They do not cling; they let go freely and with grace. Watching them drift down is like watching a dance choreographed by the Spirit. I remember once standing in a park as a breeze swept through the trees. Suddenly, hundreds of leaves lifted and swirled all around. My youngest daughter nearby began to laugh and twirl, scooping up handfuls and tossing them into the air. She saw no sadness in their falling, only joy. Her delight reminded me that letting go does not always mean loss. Sometimes it means freedom. Jesus reminds us, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24). Autumn invites us into that holy wisdom: letting go is not the end, but the beginning of new life. What might God be asking you to release this autumn? Perhaps it is a worry you cannot carry alone, a hurt you’ve held for too long, the need to be in control of tomorrow, a fear that weighs you down or a habit that dims your joy? “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7). Like the trees, we are invited to trust that what is surrendered into God’s care will give way to something new and beautiful.

Harvest time: Gathering the fruits

Autumn is also the season of gathering. Farmers across the countryside bring in their crops, grain, apples, potatoes, pumpkins. The labour of months is brought to completion. As a child, I remember the harvest festival in our parish church. We would bring baskets of fruit, tins of food, and even flowers, laying them before the altar in thanksgiving. The church smelled of apples and chrysanthemums, and hymns of gratitude filled the air. Afterwards, the food was shared with those in need. Even as a child, I sensed the deep truth of those days, when we give thanks and share, God’s abundance multiplies. In our spiritual lives too, autumn calls us to ask, what is the harvest of this past year? Have we grown in patience, forgiveness, mercy, compassion? Have we sown kindness in the lives of others? St. Paul describes this beautifully: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23). These are the fruits God longs to see ripening in us.

Autumn and compassion

Autumn is a season that makes us mindful of others. The colder nights and earlier darkness bring to mind those who walk life’s harder roads such as the homeless, the lonely, the sick, the abandoned, the cancelled, the grieving. I think of a friend who, every September and October, knits scarves and hats to give to a local shelter for homeless people. “The nights are cold,” she says simply, “and I want someone to feel a little warmer.” She also knits stuff for me to bring to Africa when I go. That, to me, is the spirit of autumn, small acts of love that ripple outward. Jesus says in Matthew’s Gospel: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). When we reach out in compassion and love, we are gathering God’s harvest of mercy.

The tender melancholy of Autumn

Autumn also carries a gentle sadness. As the days grow shorter and the trees grow bare, we are reminded of the passing of time, of loved ones we miss, of the fragility of life. Many of us feel a certain ache in this season, as though the fading light awakens longings and memories we carry deep inside. Yet even in this, God is near. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). I think of my Nana Scully who once told me, “I like autumn. It reminds me of those I’ve loved and lost, but in the beauty of the leaves, I feel close to them.” Her words stayed with me. Grief and beauty can dwell together, and both can lead us closer to God.

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Seize your Autumn

Autumn is my season of harvest, of reaping what has been sown. Nature offers its bounty such as grains, fruits, nuts, all reminders of gratitude and preparation. The skies are clearer, the air crisper, the world more vivid. Autumn, like a new year, invites reflection, to evaluate our habits, to nourish what is good, and let go of what no longer serves us. Flexibility and adaptability become essential as we prepare for winter’s challenges, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. This season reminds me to seize life itself. To embrace autumn’s beauty is to embrace all that is meaningful and vibrant. The colors of the leaves, the cool freshness of the air, the warmth of the sun, and the gentle breeze awaken gratitude. Amid hardship, we are reminded that beauty persists, urging us to strive for a better world and to treasure each present moment.

Autumn invites us to look within

Autumn can be lending a hand, offering a smile, sharing bread, giving shelter, listening, embracing, teaching, praying, or simply sitting in silence with someone. Autumn can be joy, reflection, care, and love manifest in countless small acts. It is the season of noticing, connecting, healing, and giving. Autumn can be both action and stillness, both gratitude and prayer, both the beauty of the world and the awareness of God’s presence in it. Autumn’s changes invite us to look within. As leaves fall slowly or are blown away in a gust of wind, we are reminded to watch the movements of our own spiritual lives. As Sr. Joyce Rupp writes: "God of the seasons, there is a time for everything; a time for dying and a time for rising. We need courage to enter into the transformation process. God of autumn, the trees are saying goodbye to their green. We, too, have our moments of surrender. Help us let go when we need to. God of fallen leaves, our lives have patterns. May we learn from them. God of harvest, grant patience. God of geese going south, guide us on what to carry forward. God of life, you enrich us, entrust us with freedom to choose life. For all this, we are grateful. Amen."

A season of hope

Though autumn ends in falling leaves and darker days, beneath the surface the earth is already preparing for spring. Seeds rest, bulbs lie hidden, new life stirs in secret. What seems like an ending is really a beginning. God whispers this promise to us too: that no ending is final, no loss beyond His healing, no winter without the hope of spring. As Revelation proclaims, “See, I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:5). So let us walk gently through this season, always noticing its beauty, embracing its wisdom, holding its melancholy tenderly, and trusting its hope.

Thought for the week

As your thought for the week and as autumn unfolds, let each day be like a field after harvest. Let our thoughts and actions yield love, joy, kindness, forgiveness, mercy, compassion, and peace. Release that which holds us back, replace hate with love, pride with humility, anger with self-control, unbelief with faith, revenge with forgiveness. May we embrace the abundance around us and within us, seeing the blessings even amid life’s hardships. Autumn reminds us to focus on the good, to be fully present, and to shine a light on what nourishes our hearts and souls. Autumn whispers that life is fragile, fleeting, and beautiful. Will we live it with gratitude? Will we let go with trust? Will we love with compassion? That is the challenge of this season.

Regina McIntosh captures autumn’s essence: "The very air is crunchy, as leaves rustling beneath heavy feet. Pondering the shades scarlet, gold, and tangerine, Inspirational hues. Breathing prayers through the promises of September onwards—autumn truths. Life in blushing rays of wisdom humbling even the trees, whose limbs, stark naked, seek repose in autumn slumber. Faith dispels doubt, a light that never goes out. This is trust from a soul who knows grace abides on the eventide of Autumn. Amen." Autumn is a reminder that life is ever-changing, full of nostalgia, blessings, and potential. It is a season to harvest the seeds sown, reflect on the past, prepare for the future, and embrace the present. Let us enter this autumn with open hearts, gratitude, and a willingness to see God’s artistry in every leaf, every breeze, every moment. Let me leave you with one of my autumn prayers called, A Prayer for Autumn. "Loving Creator, You paint the trees with splendour, and in their falling leaves You teach us the wisdom of release. You fill the barns and baskets of the earth, and in the harvest You teach us gratitude. You touch our hearts with the beauty of golden days and the ache of fading light, reminding us that life is both precious and passing. This autumn, teach us to let go with grace, to gather blessings with thanksgiving, to share love with compassion, and to trust Your promise of renewal. Be close to those who grieve, warm the hearts of the lonely, shelter the vulnerable, and grant us the courage to be instruments of Your care. And as we step into the days ahead, may the golden light of autumn warm our hearts. May the falling leaves remind us of the beauty of letting go. May the harvest of Your love fill our souls with peace. And may You, Lord of every season, walk beside us today, tomorrow, and always. Through Christ our Lord, Amen. Happy Autumn! May this season fill you with peace, joy, and abundant blessings.