Get the picture? … by Sherry Hopkins

The fallen leaves are piling up at the door, gracefully swirling at the least gust of wind. I am usually very fastidious about sweeping the porches, often wearing out several brooms a year. But now, today, I am content almost delighted in the sight and smell of the leaves.

The crackling sound they make underfoot is enchanting.

I seem to have a different attitude about autumn this year. Perhaps because it sneaked up on me in the dead of night making me so cold that I pulled the covers closer to me. Maybe because it has been unseasonably dry this year and everything is dead and drab which makes the multihued leaves more beautiful, the sky a deeper blue.

I am content to just be outside wandering around the yard peeking to see if the new Bluebird family is nesting yet, glancing to see if the lovely purple Asters have bloomed. The hummingbird activity has waned in the past few days and nothing but red wasps linger at the feeders. They seem drowsy, lazy almost as they light on the feeder rims. The cooler days and cold nights have affected them too.

I pot mums all along the porches and turn them every day so the hundreds of little buds will pop open simultaneously into bright golden blooms. I shop for pumpkins but the price keeps me from buying just yet. It is hard to justify $12 for 3 that will hardly last a month.

The pool has been closed and covered and we now spend our weekends in the patio around the firepit. The aroma of coffee and burning hickory wood is a hard one to beat. The flames lick in every direction and we move frequently to keep from getting scorched.

Last weekend we had pancakes and bacon for Sunday night supper, our appetites having changed along with the season. Those sweet smells linger through the days making me hungry again each time I encounter them.

We talk about taking long walks and finding a cabin in the woods to spend a weekend away. But we have to remind ourselves often that we live in the woods and what more could we ask for.

We talk of fall vacation and if  we will go somewhere, anywhere or just stay here nestled in the soft curve of the trees watching the wildlife and crowding ever closer to the fires on Saturday mornings.  

If idyllic is what we are yearning for, don’t we have it here with this with each other?

What more is there to life than contentment, to love and be loved? To watch the sun rise and the same sun set in all its crimson glory. Then slowly the moon makes its way above the tree line and sets the stage for a show that has no comparison.

No Direct TV, no movie and no Broadway musical can match this.

We are lucky to be here now at this moment and we know it.

You get the picture.

(Contact award-winning columnist Sherry Hopkins at swhcsc@wildblue.net.)