As I write, my curtains are fluttering in a cool breeze. My dogwood has turned russet, and several sunburst locusts and other deciduous trees have begun to turn golden and orange. Last Monday was the first day of fall. The trees seem to recognize that.
Last Wednesday I walked beneath a true autumn sky: baby blue dotted with steel-gray cumulous clouds. Thursday morning’s sky looked God had swiped his fingers across gray whipped cream, creating a beautifully layered stratum.
I love seeing the leaves transform from grass-green to tangerine, scarlet, and gold. I cherish purple ironweed, a few stalwart blue chicories that survived the township’s mowing, and (Can you believe it?) dandelions along the roadside. I actually saw two pink flowering crab tree blossoms on my tree. I’ve never seen that in September, I assure you. It’s a blessing. [See photo page 13].
I always get nervous around mid-autumn, though. It seems the sun retreats until December, when it inevitably warms up, just before Christmas. I need sunshine. That’s tough to come by in the Atlantic community in late fall. I’m thankful for my UV-filtered white light and for treadmills at a local fitness center so I can keep my mood stable. But, honestly, there’s no substitute for quiet walks outside on sunny days.
Just as summer conjures images of swimming in my parents’ pool, walking on sunny mornings, glorying in orange day lilies, blue chicory, and pink peonies, fall evokes certain images.
My ideal fall morning would include sipping a mug of steaming tea in a rocking chair on my front porch just after sunrise. An uninterrupted hike in the woods would be the highlight of a perfect fall afternoon. Homemade chili, cornbread, and warm apple crisp would top the day off nicely. Throw in a good novel, and I’d feel awfully close to heaven.
Each season brings challenges and blessings. We might not know what new challenges or blessings await, but we can always trust God will see us through. He has certainly proven this during the past six weeks. I watched in awe as Mom walked, assisted only by a cane, to dinner last Thursday. Six weeks ago, she couldn’t get out of bed. I have seen Jehovah Rapha in action: The Lord who heals.
All God’s blessings to you this week!