While on my walk early this morning before sunrise, I thought to myself: Fall is in the air. How do I know? It’s hard to describe, so all I can say it’s just a feeling telling me this day was different. A coolness that wasn’t present yesterday. Not just any coolness but the edge of a distant coolness which signifies Fall has arrived. My favorite time of the year growing up on the farm was Fall (or Autumn) and still is my favorite season. I love the trees changing colors and I remember picking out the most beautiful ones, which were the maple trees. They always showed their best brilliance of reds, yellows, oranges, and purples in the Fall. I would gather the pretty leaves, press them in between pieces of wax paper and place them among the pages of our encyclopedias, because they were the heaviest books we had. (Young people these days don’t know what encyclopedias are, click HERE for definition!)
The “Mighty Oaks,” as my dad called them, stood majestic reaching high into the sky and kept their leaves the longest, finally turning monochromatic shades of brown in November or December. Even when the snow was knee high, the oak tree leaves were rustling in the wind as if they were saying, “We will be here until the end of time!” Fall also meant the garden’s growing season would be soon over and my dad would harvest the last of the tomatoes, squash, and pumpkins. My dad grew some of the biggest tomatoes and pumpkins I have ever seen! My mom would search the basement for more canning jars to see if there were enough left to can stewed tomatoes and pumpkin puree. The pumpkin puree would be used to make pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving. I can still smell those mouthwatering aromas coming from the kitchen! Aah, the wonder of Fall continues in this country girl’s heart!
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree. –Emily Brontë