The light has gone inside things.

I love the autumn light. There is less of it this time of year, but oh what an exquisite light it is. As the slanted rays filter through gold and red and caramel-colored leaves, it feels a little like walking around inside an Edward Hopper painting. Maybe John Donne was musing about this exceptional light when he wrote, “In Heaven it is always Autumn.”

This weekend we will “fall back” as Daylight Saving Time comes to an end. I remember from my childhood the twice-yearly ritual of resetting every clock in the house, with Mom gently nudging the hands on the face of the big clock in the den forward or backward, depending on the season, while my brother and I reset our bedside digital alarm clocks. Today, of course, our smartphones do all the work for us while we sleep.

Either way, this Sunday afternoon we'll be struck by how little light there is.

Some of us will welcome the fading of the light as we reach for a blanket and cup of tea. For others, the encroaching darkness will bring a sense of melancholy and loss. We will miss the sun.

Years ago during autumn, Robert Farrar Capon, the Episcopal priest, author, gardener and chef, was looking at all the fruits, vegetables and spices he had frozen, canned or dried for winter consumption. He also looked at the woodpile, ready for use against the cold. He remembered how all these things had grown because of the sun, and that all the energy now stored in them was, in fact, stored light. The sun had gotten inside the wood and inside the tomatoes and beans and squash and, through them, would continue to give life. Capon wrote: The days may be getting shorter, but the light has gone inside things. We'll have it all winter, no matter how the sun may hide.

Capon’s observation is warm encouragement for any of us who long for more light—whether the light of the sun or the light of God’s presence. Both have a way of getting inside things. When there seems to be a lack of either light on the outside, where you can see, try looking within.

Friends, as we prepare to “fall back” may the light within sustain us in the days ahead.

Peace and grace,