I walked back to the Three Sisters yesterday afternoon...such a beautiful day to be outside. Granddaddy Kendall was mowing one of the great sleeping hills, the bush-hog whop-whop-whopping through thigh-high weeds. He was mowing because the sky was blue and the air was bright, and because he simply loves driving the tractor...but I like to think he was mowing especially for me. So much easier to walk when I don't have to goose-step over tall brambles!
In the springtime, the air is softly sweet with honeysuckle and wild roses. In summer, the fresh-bread aroma of hay baking in the sun's oven. But in fall, the scents are spicy, acidic, earthy, intense...delicious. Ripe leaf tannin, cured nettle, dried aster. And the colors? Nature is dressed for a revel!
There is an ironwood tree along the trail, back beyond the old green barn. Thomas told me about it a couple of years ago. "Ironwood? Which tree is an ironwood tree?" I asked.
Thomas explained, "Just past the gap behind the old barn, look to your left. It's on the edge of the tree line. You can't miss it - if it were an Ent, he would be totally ripped." He was right. I couldn't miss it. There stood a young Arnold Schwarzenegger, in tree form.
I haven't seen Ripped Ent all summer. He's been modestly cloaked in green draperies. But today, with all the trees riotously throwing their festival clothes off, there he stood like some buff body builder ready for a day at the snow beach. We throw off our clothes in summer heat, to better feel the slightest breeze: nature sheds her clothes in autumn, anticipating the icy winds of winter.
Acorns, acorns everywhere...the deer fatten. And the raccoons, Persimmon drunk.
blues in july
4 months ago
4 comments:
Thanks for the memories. I love autum.No wonder you do. I will bet that a duck on the pond or the little birds in the woods on their way South don't go unnoticed. Love you.Dad
Granddaddy, There just happen to be 8 woodies that have showed up on our pond in the last few weeks and I saw the first V of snows fly over last weekend. Nate
Camille, God has surely gifted you with a talent for prose. Your writing is beautiful. I have been out in the woods lately digging seedlings to transplant and enjoying the blissful beauty, but it never dawned on me to write a word about it. Thank you for sharing your talent. Love you, Suzanne
We were discussing our favorite seasons and when I said mine is fall. My children asked me why? I thought a while and said it was mostly because of my memories. In the fall Sundays after church were spent at a local farm-I'm a city Yankee remember!!! The smells consumed me and our daddy always bought us cider and white powdered doughnuts at the stand. A huge treat! Then it's the crunching of the leaves underfoot in the woods behind our house, the sound of football, the crisp air, the first time to wear your favorite big sweater and the colors that I will never tire of looking!! Thanks for writing.
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