Fall Splendor
The beauty of fall envelops me as I wheel my chair through our quiet neighborhood. Evidences of God’s handiwork, upon everything I see. Splashes of vibrant colors intermixed among the lush greenery. Sunlit trees ablaze, as once, emerald, forest and sage leaves, now have transformed into ruby, amber, pumpkin and gold. The beauty is breathtaking.
Overhead there are birds in flight, loudly bantering back and forth, conversing with one another, as they begin their long journey south. The crisp air and dropping temperatures are indicators that winter is not far off.
The leaves have begun to drop, as trees prepare to go dormant for the winter. The fallen crinkly, dry, crunchy ones, line the sides of the street, some raked into large piles, others, strewn about.
Ahead, a gust of wind sends the lone leaves tumbling, somersaulting, cart wheeling, across the charcoal grey bumpy pavement. I feel the chill in the air, as I snuggle deeper into my warm black coat; wrapping my soft pink scarf, closer up around my neck and ears.
The numerous piles of leaves, lie in wait for small children, lovingly bundled in cozy jackets and brightly colored handmade knit scarves, to jump in and play. I imagine, one tiny tot, squealing with delight, as he dives in with reckless abandon, tossing a handful of leaves up over his head, up towards a brilliant sapphire sky, then, watching in awe, as the leaves come tumbling down, cascading over his tiny form. Immersed in his own magical world, he repeats the glorious process, over and over, never tiring. Only, until the chill in his bones gets the best of him, does he long for his parents welcoming arms and snug warm house.
As I continue on down the avenue, the intoxicating aromas of wood fires burning permeate the chilly air, as billowy clouds of smoke plume from the rooftops. I find myself enchanted with the darling houses in our neighborhood. Each porch, decorated uniquely, with its own personality, giving me just a tiny glimpse, into the world of the family who resides there.
Fall, my favorite season, brings to mind many happy memories from my childhood. The sights, sounds and smells are evocative of those early years. I remember the massive Gingko tree covered in creamy butter yellow leaves, too plentiful to count. As a child, I loved to scale the huge tree branches, challenging myself to go higher and higher, at every tiered limb. My mother said that our tree was quite the spectacle. People, driving, walking, or bicycling by, would stop to gaze and marvel at its beauty.
My girlfriends and I made princess bracelets out of spicy peppermint scented Eucalyptus seeds, and often times we would take walks to the neighboring blocks, spending hours collecting fascinating buckeyes, tinted auburn, chocolate, and tan. To two young girls, they were priceless treasures. As a teenager, my girlfriends and I were broke, so, we became entrepreneurs, starting our own raking service. By the end of that fall, we felt as if we had raked enough leaves, to fill an entire garbage dump site. After that, I had a new appreciation for what my parents faced; raking those thousands of buttery yellow Gingko leaves every fall.
I remember chilly fall evenings, staying out till dusk, playing hide and seek with the neighborhood kids. I recall the rush of adrenaline felt, as we dashed to find our perfect hiding place, and then, the thrill and excitement, of being the seeker, and finding the hider. Tirelessly, we would play for what seemed like hours. Inevitably, the sun would set, street lights would come on, and my brothers and I, would be beckoned homeward, by the familiar sound of the old black bell clunking, signaling us, that it was time to come in for the night.
I shiver as the sun begins to set on the horizon. The sky fills with brilliant colors of rose, periwinkle, marigold, poppy and violet. I feel privileged and blessed to witness such a glorious sunset. God has given me yet another gift, a masterpiece of splendor, signed by Him alone.
As the colors begin to fade away, and the street lights turn on, this time I am beckoned, not by a bell, but by a desire, a yearning, a longing to be with my family. Quickening my pace, I smile, as I anticipate the joyful squeals and loving smiles on my little boys’ faces, each scrambling, competing for the title to be the first one to greet me at the door.
Almost home, I imagine a roaring fire inside, built and lit lovingly, by my husband’s hands, just waiting to warm my chilly body. A steaming mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows sprinkled on top sounds good to me right about now. As I wheel up our driveway I say a silent prayer, thanking God for the splendor of fall, the beauty of past memories, my adoring family, glorious sunsets and my welcoming home.
