Fall
Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting
and autumn a mosaic of them all.
- Stanley Horowitz
Fall is coming. It is evident in the crisp air of early morning and evening, perceptible in the lazy breezes of late afternoon and in the earlier setting of the sun. It’s my favorite time of year. For weeks now I’ve watched for signs in hopes it will be early to arrive and late to leave. I will happily wish away the last days of summer in exchange for the near perfection of the days of fall.
Jake and I spend more time outside when fall arrives. We trade the air conditioned indoors for the comfortable air of outdoors to collect colored leaves, fallen acorns, nuts, and pinecones. Laundry dried on the line smells particularly good these last few days. Along with the scent of sunshine there’s something else that I can’t describe. I noticed it yesterday as I approached the line for gathering the clothes. Long before I got to the line, the smell wafted out on the wind surrounded me, moving me immediately into the sense of calm that always settles over me as I stand at the clothesline looking out into the fields.
Now I hear the chicks chirping away while I hang laundry since their house is only about ten feet away from the line. Their peeping sets a sweet rhythm to the hanging or folding of the clothes and I am lost in the quiet sounds of nature all around. Wind seems to answer the call of a wet shirt shaken just before hanging, birds sing, things not seen rustle the field grasses and the big dogs lay quietly to the side, overseeing the tranquil work. I love laundry on the line in summer, but I am finding there is something extra-better about it as fall makes its way in.
The remaining eight chicks are doing just fine. They are adorable, and amazingly friendly. One in particular, a little black one with a yellow chest and mottled face will hop right over and beg shamelessly for attention. The kids just love that. I’ve noticed that, just like me, they like to hold the baby chicks close to their faces to feel the tickle of the silky down that will soon enough give way to feathers. We hope they will remain friendly as they grow up so each of us make sure to spend a little time each day in the chicken house with each tiny, peeping bundle of fluff perched on a knee or finger. Even if they grow up to be unsociable bundles of pecking feathers the time spent now will be so worth it. There is nothing like baby chicks. Well, maybe puppies and kittens – there’s nothing like them either.
and autumn a mosaic of them all.
- Stanley Horowitz
Fall is coming. It is evident in the crisp air of early morning and evening, perceptible in the lazy breezes of late afternoon and in the earlier setting of the sun. It’s my favorite time of year. For weeks now I’ve watched for signs in hopes it will be early to arrive and late to leave. I will happily wish away the last days of summer in exchange for the near perfection of the days of fall.
Jake and I spend more time outside when fall arrives. We trade the air conditioned indoors for the comfortable air of outdoors to collect colored leaves, fallen acorns, nuts, and pinecones. Laundry dried on the line smells particularly good these last few days. Along with the scent of sunshine there’s something else that I can’t describe. I noticed it yesterday as I approached the line for gathering the clothes. Long before I got to the line, the smell wafted out on the wind surrounded me, moving me immediately into the sense of calm that always settles over me as I stand at the clothesline looking out into the fields.
Now I hear the chicks chirping away while I hang laundry since their house is only about ten feet away from the line. Their peeping sets a sweet rhythm to the hanging or folding of the clothes and I am lost in the quiet sounds of nature all around. Wind seems to answer the call of a wet shirt shaken just before hanging, birds sing, things not seen rustle the field grasses and the big dogs lay quietly to the side, overseeing the tranquil work. I love laundry on the line in summer, but I am finding there is something extra-better about it as fall makes its way in.
The remaining eight chicks are doing just fine. They are adorable, and amazingly friendly. One in particular, a little black one with a yellow chest and mottled face will hop right over and beg shamelessly for attention. The kids just love that. I’ve noticed that, just like me, they like to hold the baby chicks close to their faces to feel the tickle of the silky down that will soon enough give way to feathers. We hope they will remain friendly as they grow up so each of us make sure to spend a little time each day in the chicken house with each tiny, peeping bundle of fluff perched on a knee or finger. Even if they grow up to be unsociable bundles of pecking feathers the time spent now will be so worth it. There is nothing like baby chicks. Well, maybe puppies and kittens – there’s nothing like them either.
2 Comments:
Fall is my favorite time of year! I'm glad to find someone else who appreciates it!
I love fall too! I spend most of my time outside working on my back porch with the dogs lazing next to me.
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