Oh the difficulties I have with chosing my favorite season. I dare say it's not much of a contest because, in all truth, Fall has my heart.
Unlike the other seasons, I am always hurrying Fall along - - as if it were a petulant child insisting upon dragging it's feet. I peak through the tardy morning to see if a mist is forming. I breath deeply as if to quiet my Summer soul. I muse below the surface of my aging thoughts where memories of yesterFalls reside. A few such ...
- Adding another blanket to the bed
- Tucking sandals away in favor of socks & shoes
- Leaving wide open the window at night
- Relishing a carmel apple
- Taking in the annual Fair with all it's delights
- Smelling the loamy earth as it gives up it's harvest
- Pressing nose against a rain-spattered pane
- Delighting in new Crayolas and #2 pencils
These are simple, yet utterly profound items. They're the reds and golds of my Autumn thoughts, and they render me giddy with girlishness.
Fall is the glorious.
I think it not odd ... not odd at all, that such splendor is found just this side of Winter's devastating blight. Perhaps I've lived all my life in the Springs and Summers, knowing that one day I'd be living the Autumns that arrive just ahead of the Winters. Perhaps that is why I have so favored the browns, crimsons, yellows and greens of life. My heart is colored with every shade of them!
No matter ... As long as there's Fall, there is dancing.
"October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came -
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band."
~George Cooper, "October's Party"