C: Autumn Smiles

autumn2Does it seem trite to write about the season, autumn?  Today I am feeling very grateful for the season.  It is brisk and beautiful out, and it caused me to stop and think about what I love about autumn:

  • Pots of soup on the scoyotetove
  • Coyotes yapping more than usual
  • Warm afghans on the couch
  • Wood neatly stacked on the back porch
  • An excuse to light a firefireplace
  • Hearthside chats
  • Color of its own, not found in other seasons

autumn3These pleasures are enough to chase away the gloom of darkening days and slow-arising mornings. 

Each season has its own pleasure, but autumn seems to me to be the most peaceful.  Summer and Winter are extremes that my aging self is finding harder and harder to tolerate. 

Winter sometimes has hushed beauty, but it is interspersed with hardship.

Spring is gorgeous, of course, but it seems so busy with thespring bursting of new life and volatile weather.

For me, autumn marks the end of my relentless mowing tasks and summer heat.  It is a time to rest and await the winter.

Hope you are all feeling this, too. 

Peace, C.

Comments

Hilary said…
It's always been my favorite time of year........warm, sunny days, cool nights. And the color.
LOVE it.
November 18, 2013 at 7:12 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Guest Post by K: Whirlwinds of Change & a New Normal

Image
  Cowgirl V:  Shortly after the tornado that struck Tuscaloosa, AL, I asked my sister if she would consider writing a guest post about her experiences there.  She is a registered nurse who previously worked with Hurricane Katrina refugees. V   Enormous, menacing killer tornado looming over Tuscaloosa, Alabama April 27, 2011   Well, it has finally started happening.  I knew the day would come, but it has taken much longer than I expected.  You see, I live in a tornado ravaged city.  The April 27 devastation that occurred in Tuscaloosa, Alabama did not destroy my home.  In fact, we had no damage.   We were out of town when the storm hit but were glued to the television as we watched it begin to tear across the city.  I cannot describe our feelings we had as we watched this giant storm make its way across the city.  Then we had to come home.  We actually came home a day early to see what we could do to help.   The large building in the background is the local hospital.
Read more

C: A Chili Dog and Country Life

Image
When John Denver wrote/sang, " Life in the farm is kinda laid back.. ." I'm afraid he did not know what he was talking about. Surely the only person who could intone these lyrics is a singer who can hire stuff done and then lie back around his country home, enjoying only the relaxing part. Believe me, there is another side... In my own country world, there is always something that has been left undone: fences need mending (or the horses lead one on a harrowing chase), grass needs mowing, and electricity is sometimes missed. But it has its many, many moments of beauty. Just look at my horse, Bill, gazing out over our country place. In this picture, he embodies the nobility and serenity and peace of my life in the country. And then there is Chili, the Belgian Malinois pictured above. He is my constant companion when I am home. Oh, he can be noble, too. Sometimes. But then there is today. See that picture of him? That little item lying just next to his crumpled rug is a fres
Read more

C: Lessons on a Bridge

Image
We have a graceful bridge over the Arkansas River, uniting the North and South of our metropolitan area from its western side.  I don’t travel this bridge very often—maybe three or four times a year—finding that my travels take me more east-west and, if I go north, I usually travel on the Eastern side of the loop. But this week I had court in another county, and the logical route home brought me by way of this bridge.  It was on that day (last Thursday), that something occurred to me.  Never —not one time, I’d venture to say—do I traverse this bridge without thinking of an incident that occurred there in 1999.  Yes, 13 years ago, and the incident is still in my mind every time I cross the bridge.  I told V about this, and she c onfirmed that she, too, often thinks of it. This young lady’s name is Carson Prince.  In 1999 she was  the nineteen-year-old daughter of two attorneys, one of them the former mayor of our city.  In April 1999 drivers crossing from the North on this bridge
Read more