End of October, the sleepy brown woods seem to
Nod down their heads to the Winter (Dan Fogelberg from Old Tennessee)
Entering the last week of October, the coolness of the air and the falling leaves whisper softly, “Slow Down.” I have always loved the Fall season and the changes it brings. My front yard is covered in the leaves from where the trees are throwing off the weight of summer preparing to rest for a while. Neighbors are beginning to seek warmth, evidenced by the smoke going skyward as it exits the confines of the chimneys. The aroma of burning wood brings back memories of my boyhood days. The cooler months meant pushing a wheelbarrow up the hill behind my Dad’s workshop, using extra caution so the uneven weight of the firewood didn’t shift and lead to a reloading. Though there were times I despised the work, I always loved the fire. Now as I near fifty years of age, I still stack firewood and push a wheelbarrow load of it to my back porch, but thankfully not up a hill. I often think of my Dad during those times of moving firewood and wish I could hear the buzz of his chainsaw again, preparing for the cold months to come. He seemed to like winter as well. Maybe an appreciation for the cold months is one of the gifts he silently gave me, a gift I didn’t recognize as such until he was gone.
The cool air, falling leaves and the scent and glow of a fire are gifts from the creator of the seasons. Fall has a purpose and beauty, like all of the seasons. It is a gateway to a period of dormancy. It is that last crescendo of life before all goes quiet and sleepy.
Woke up one morning the wind through the window
Reminded me winter was just ’round the bend
Somehow I just didn’t see it was coming
It took me by surprise again (Dan Fogelberg from Old Tennessee)