For most of the day yesterday the wind was gusty and the skies overcast. The storms were rolling in. You knew they were coming and you can do little but wait. The farmers were rushing to get the corn off, I saw the combines kicking up dust as they went about their business. Harvest time in full swing. The rain started to drizzle down about five thirty last evening. It was sputtering on and off til I went to bed. I awoke to the sound of rain. It is not an unpleasant sound. And as the farmers would normally say, we need a little rain. Not this time though, can't combine in the rain you know.
While out for a drive I noticed the farm stands were displaying cut corn stalks,pumpkins and mums. Bales of straw and hay abound. Can the appearance of those strange little gourds be far behind ? I'll be buying some for decorations. I'm not sure why I do, but I do it every year. A yearly habit ? How long does it take to form a habit ? How often do you have to do something for it to be a habit ? I have a habit of asking a lot of questions, Mom says I always did. Well, as the saying goes, inquiring minds want to know.
In the early evening I was sitting in the recliner with the window open. I was just sitting quietly,listening. That wind was gusting and I was enjoying the sound. The wind sounds different in the fall. The winds rustles. In the winter it howls. Different sounds altogether. The trees are beginning to gain some color and some leaves are falling. It is those dry leaves that make that sound. They are protesting. One last gasp before they are gone. Some will be burned,some bagged and others just blown away. Where do they go, those that go with the wind ? They will huddle in the bushes and corners of buildings. When the wind blows in winter they will dance in circles celebrating one more time. By spring they are gone.
Summer has come and gone and I haven't wet a line. That is to say, I didn't go fishing this year. Not one time. Unusual but not unprecedented. No boat and so many regulations dampen my enthusiasm. It's alright though I'm not complaining. Given the chance I would like to go clamming again. That is an activity I haven't done in many years. I'm adding that to my bucket list. I wouldn't even mind scratching up some long clams. Walking along the shoreline in winter and digging in that cold mud is invigorating ! Was a day when I didn't view it in quite that way, but the lure of those clams prevailed. Didn't think of it necessarily as fun, but necessary. It is easy to envision that activity when you are in the warmth of your memories, the reality of it is quite different. I haven't forgotten.
Fall has arrived. Hearth and home. Burning leaves. A bountiful harvest and comfort foods. Fall is a gentle time, a time to prepare. We need to get ready for the harshness of winter. For now I will relax and just enjoy. Fall doesn't last all that long. A quick visit and it is gone. Then the windows are closed and the house filled with smells of cooking. The warmth of winter, fragrant and dry takes over. Sweatshirts,sweaters and throws. I do enjoy the change in the seasons. Seasons serve as a reminder. A reminder of the passing of time and a reminder of life and renewal. A beginning and an end. The end is always followed by a new beginning. That is the wonder of it all !
While out for a drive I noticed the farm stands were displaying cut corn stalks,pumpkins and mums. Bales of straw and hay abound. Can the appearance of those strange little gourds be far behind ? I'll be buying some for decorations. I'm not sure why I do, but I do it every year. A yearly habit ? How long does it take to form a habit ? How often do you have to do something for it to be a habit ? I have a habit of asking a lot of questions, Mom says I always did. Well, as the saying goes, inquiring minds want to know.
In the early evening I was sitting in the recliner with the window open. I was just sitting quietly,listening. That wind was gusting and I was enjoying the sound. The wind sounds different in the fall. The winds rustles. In the winter it howls. Different sounds altogether. The trees are beginning to gain some color and some leaves are falling. It is those dry leaves that make that sound. They are protesting. One last gasp before they are gone. Some will be burned,some bagged and others just blown away. Where do they go, those that go with the wind ? They will huddle in the bushes and corners of buildings. When the wind blows in winter they will dance in circles celebrating one more time. By spring they are gone.
Summer has come and gone and I haven't wet a line. That is to say, I didn't go fishing this year. Not one time. Unusual but not unprecedented. No boat and so many regulations dampen my enthusiasm. It's alright though I'm not complaining. Given the chance I would like to go clamming again. That is an activity I haven't done in many years. I'm adding that to my bucket list. I wouldn't even mind scratching up some long clams. Walking along the shoreline in winter and digging in that cold mud is invigorating ! Was a day when I didn't view it in quite that way, but the lure of those clams prevailed. Didn't think of it necessarily as fun, but necessary. It is easy to envision that activity when you are in the warmth of your memories, the reality of it is quite different. I haven't forgotten.
Fall has arrived. Hearth and home. Burning leaves. A bountiful harvest and comfort foods. Fall is a gentle time, a time to prepare. We need to get ready for the harshness of winter. For now I will relax and just enjoy. Fall doesn't last all that long. A quick visit and it is gone. Then the windows are closed and the house filled with smells of cooking. The warmth of winter, fragrant and dry takes over. Sweatshirts,sweaters and throws. I do enjoy the change in the seasons. Seasons serve as a reminder. A reminder of the passing of time and a reminder of life and renewal. A beginning and an end. The end is always followed by a new beginning. That is the wonder of it all !
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