Alive and snapping air Orange, yellow, red apples Orange, yellow, red trees And unraked piles of leaves From terrific prairie wind Whistling through brown stalks of corn. Is it possible to be so alive In a season that’s dying?
Today is a lovely day,
Where the sprightly green of e.e. cummings
With drops of gold and red
From God’s paintbrush.
The thick summer air
Turns crisp with apples,
Wind, and insects.
And the sun--oh, the sun!--
Is an entire orchestra as it sets
And beckons brilliant constellations.
Crisp fall air. Charcoal smoldering in a grill. A porch swing caught in a breeze, beckoning. Drying corn along quiet country roads. Baby giggles. Sun-scented laundry. Family wedding plans. Fresh clothes on happy babies. The steam of a busy iron. Ice cream rivers on shirt fronts. Late night talks. New honey. A church building smelling of Pinesol. Uncontrolled laughter. Spontaneous neighbor visits. Children’s books over and over.
I’m sorry I’ve been so absent. Sometimes it feels like I’m trying to be present in too many places to really be present anywhere at all. Ever feel that way? My blog updates probably will be scatter-brained over the next couple of months, but I’ll try to check in anyway. 🙂 Have a wonderful autumn in the meantime.
Autumn is my favorite season. This year I had one day of what I would consider true autumn: the sweet smell of damp and fallen leaves, apples, pumpkin bread, brisk air. It was lovely. I had to enjoy the entire season in only one day in that mountain town. But I think I succeeded.
Despite the Midwest feeling of that fall day, now and then there was a reminder that I wasn’t in central Illinois: