My favorite season. I gather autumn’s remnants, the fallen leaves, last blossoms shredded by wind, the dancing grasses, and dry them in my flower press. Why is it that that last burst of golden and copper life seems the fiercest?
It does seem more precious than other seasons, doesn’t it? I love the smell of the season too- the scent of wild grape in the fields and the sound of scuffing leaves.
Somehow, it’s escaped me until now that while I start bundling up in the fall here in New Hampshire, somewhere in Australia they’re just coming into Spring, my favorite season. If I had been fortunate enough to be a multi millionaire, I’d have been sorely tempted to follow spring around the world.
Fall started at 8:44 a.m. this morning. The temperature at my place went up to 97F, which somehow didn’t feel like Fall to me, but now it has cooled off a little and a few fallen leaves and the quart of cider I bought at Kroger’s signals my insistence that Autumn Begin. Real Fall is the season I love most with memories of going back to school on the cusp of Halloween. I loved getting my school supplies, often a new lunch box featuring a favorite cartoon or Disney character, and usually a few new clothes. The bulletin boards in our classrooms were decorated with pumpkins, bats, ghosts, black cats, witches, and many other icons of the holiday. When the five of us headed up the driveway to catch the school bus, our parents had no thoughts that our safety could be in jeopardy. It wasn’t. Now for too many parents Fall is full of fear. We all know it doesn’t have to be this way, because if we are old enough, we lived through a time when fear for the safety of children at school was limited to small stuff-- a skinned knee from the playground, a short-lived virus like the measles, or perhaps the danger that comes with running with scissors or eating glue. There were no guns, no knives, no explosives. I often think of the children of Sandy Hook who would still be with us if they had gone to school when I did. There is a deeply disturbing senselessness in the land this September.
My favorite season. I gather autumn’s remnants, the fallen leaves, last blossoms shredded by wind, the dancing grasses, and dry them in my flower press. Why is it that that last burst of golden and copper life seems the fiercest?
It does seem more precious than other seasons, doesn’t it? I love the smell of the season too- the scent of wild grape in the fields and the sound of scuffing leaves.
I've often thought that the flowers still blooming at the very end of the season seem to be the brightest as if to say - "notice me, here I am!"
I like that! The way my Black eyed Susans are bursting with blooms, I think you are right.
You take every day life and paint a beautiful picture. Artist at work!
Ha! Not really, but thank you for saying so!
Absolutely are. And thank you for sharing your artistry with us readers
Somehow, it’s escaped me until now that while I start bundling up in the fall here in New Hampshire, somewhere in Australia they’re just coming into Spring, my favorite season. If I had been fortunate enough to be a multi millionaire, I’d have been sorely tempted to follow spring around the world.
So true, Tena! I’d be right there with you!
Observation, not flattery
Fall started at 8:44 a.m. this morning. The temperature at my place went up to 97F, which somehow didn’t feel like Fall to me, but now it has cooled off a little and a few fallen leaves and the quart of cider I bought at Kroger’s signals my insistence that Autumn Begin. Real Fall is the season I love most with memories of going back to school on the cusp of Halloween. I loved getting my school supplies, often a new lunch box featuring a favorite cartoon or Disney character, and usually a few new clothes. The bulletin boards in our classrooms were decorated with pumpkins, bats, ghosts, black cats, witches, and many other icons of the holiday. When the five of us headed up the driveway to catch the school bus, our parents had no thoughts that our safety could be in jeopardy. It wasn’t. Now for too many parents Fall is full of fear. We all know it doesn’t have to be this way, because if we are old enough, we lived through a time when fear for the safety of children at school was limited to small stuff-- a skinned knee from the playground, a short-lived virus like the measles, or perhaps the danger that comes with running with scissors or eating glue. There were no guns, no knives, no explosives. I often think of the children of Sandy Hook who would still be with us if they had gone to school when I did. There is a deeply disturbing senselessness in the land this September.
I felt every bit of this, though I'm in Michigan, have never farmed, and have never sailed. You brought me along on a lovely journey this morning! ❤️
Thank you, Ramona. I love your writing. Ever since reading your thoughts on Lake Michigan, I realize that I, too, love "big water"!
That's so kind, Maura. Thank you. I'm a little blown away!
I love your concluding with the Ehrenberg quote
Beautiful