The seasons of life

11 Cast your bread upon the waters,    for you will find it after many days.2 Give a portion to seven, or even to eight,    for you know not what disaster may happen on earth.3 If the clouds are full of rain,    they empty themselves on the earth,and if a tree falls to the south or to the north,    in the place where the tree falls, there it will lie.4 He who observes the wind will not sow,    and he who regards the clouds will not reap.5 As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything.6 In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good.7 Light is sweet, and it is pleasant for the eyes to see the sun.8 So if a person lives many years, let him rejoice in them all; but let him remember that the days of darkness will be many. All that comes is vanity.9 Rejoice, O young man, in your youth, and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth. Walk in the ways of your heart and the sight of your eyes. But know that for all these things God will bring you into judgment.10 Remove vexation from your heart, and put away pain from your body, for youth and the dawn of life are vanity.12 Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them”; 2 before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return after the rain, 3 in the day when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those who look through the windows are dimmed, 4 and the doors on the street are shut—when the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the sound of a bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low— 5 they are afraid also of what is high, and terrors are in the way; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along, and desire fails, because man is going to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets— 6 before the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is shattered at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern, 7 and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it. 8 Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity.

Eccl 12 is a famous passage about aging and death. It's usually taken to be an allegorical description of the aging body. However, the anatomical interpretation is difficult to carry through consistently. For that reason, some commentators reject the allegorical understanding. 

I think the problem is not with the allegorical understanding, but identifying a single controlling metaphor. Fredericks has argued, the dominant metaphor is the storm. The direct comparison is not between a house, birds, trees, grasshoppers, and the aging body, but between the approaching storm or its aftermath and the aging process. 

This also means we should interpret chap. 12 in conjunction with chap. 11, as part of a thematic unit. They share a common meteorological motif. 

So this involves a poetic comparison between the cycle of life and the seasons of life. Unfortunately, that's such a cliche that it's lost some of its power. Yet when this was originally written, about 3000 years ago, it wasn't such a cliche! 

In this metaphor, Spring and Summer represent youth and the prime of life, while Fall and Winter represent middle age and old age. You can have Spring and Summer storms, but after the storm, the sun returns. Yet there comes a time when the weather turns. When the sun doesn't return after the rain. There are parts of the world where the sun doesn't shine in winter. It disappears behind the clouds and remains out of sight until next Spring. 

Unfortunately, the aging process can be like that. In youth you have mostly good days–with a few stormy days. In old age, you alternate between good days and bad days, then bad days and worse days. 

The skies darkens with the approaching storm front. The sun disappears behind the lowering clouds. In a dry, sunny climate like Palestine, people generally work out of doors. But when a storm front approaches, the noisy, busy streets empty as people take shelter indoors–peering through windows at the angry skies. Even the songbirds fly away. Houses are buffeted by high winds. 

After the storm has passed, people emerge to survey the damage. The battered landscape. Lighting or whirlwinds can down trees, ruin crops, or smash hanging pottery, If they live by a river, torrential rain can cause flooding. 

That, in turn, becomes an allegory (or partial allegory) for the aging process. The elderly withdraw from public life. Spend more time indoors. Their eyes dim, their hearing hardens, their hands tremble. They lose balance. They suffer from sensory deprivation and social isolation. Living alone, they suffer the loss of physical affection. A simple hug. Their world grows ever smaller.