Autumn, Ahh yes...the season of my birth, a time when all things begin to die, only to begin again.
As Mayo Angelo so aptly described it (I was paraphrasing) in one of my favorite poems: "Late October".
Perhaps that is why I have such deep feelings to this particular season. Then again, it could be the amazing color, the huge piles of leaves or the wonderful smell of those very same leaves as they burn, their smoke telling a story for another time, another place as painted on the evening sky. A golden corn field, newly harvested at sundown, so lovely in it's aloneness.
A season to spend out of doors, jacket season and time to break out the old jeans again after spending the summer in shorts. The big, ominous, forbidding sky, foretells the coming of the snow clouds, thundering just over the horizon.
Fall, a time for sorrow? Perhaps, yet hope, it lingers long in the leaf smoke.... it's forgiveness weaves it's way through golden cornstalks as the two lane farm track winds up through the hills, down through the valleys so full of color, crossing the vibrant little stream that leads to home.....and yet, there is more.
Autumn is the season I found God....