Straw
What do you see as you gaze upon the wreath at my door? Do you see a ring of straw bound loosely within cotton twine and hung upon a tarnished old nail bent by its many seasonal burdens? Perhaps you glanced briefly noticing only a commercially marketed, manufactured commodity representing the fallacy of a long buried holiday now without reason. Did you maybe observe the product of dirty underpaid hands laboring unappreciatively at a meaningless job?
Or maybe you bore witness to the artistry of one who understood the festive symbolism being wrought within their hands. Perhaps you peered beyond the straw to the place of its origin, to golden fields swaying in a gentle fall breeze carrying the seeds of new life from the now lifeless stalks. Perhaps you find within this circle of straw a representation for the circle of life.Is it possible you could travel farther still, beyond the origins of this symbol of bountiful harvest, to the place and time of your own origins. A time when the energies of newly cooled air brought jovial recollections of a long summer's escapades. Or possibly a time when the winds of change brought calming and whimsical thoughts of summers yet to come, summers you have since experienced. Experiences that when summed gather to now define what it is you see as you gaze upon the wreath at my door.
