Autumn 2010

   For some reason I never published the following blog so, even though it is not yet autumn, I'm publishing it now both because I like this one and because I am forgetful.

    Unfortunately for anyone who stumbles across this blog, I am saving the best of my writings to send to publishers, including the story for which this blog is named, so this gets the leftovers, kind of a "bloggy bag", things I would be more likely to write in my journal.  Now that I have a blog, I don't have to waste money on spiral notebooks. This is my journal from Sept. 2nd.
    It is my favorite season--autumn.  A time of cool nights and mornings but warm afternoons, tingling with promise.  It is a time of beginnings, my beginning at least. Though I love to see green, growing things, by this point of the year I am tired of maintaining them; though I do little enough yard work, I am tired of watering plants and feeling guilty about not watering plants.  Fall speaks to me of a time of rest, rest from growing, rest from the long summer days.  Soon the insects will die and the leaves will fall, I will see the Swan peaks from my front windows, I will see into the Stillwater River, clear at last, when I cross the bridge.  I feel the echo of excitement of the start of school years long ago, the smell of new crayons, even the smell of the pulp mill that permeated Missoula in the fall.
     It is the perfect time of day to be outside and yet I prefer today to stay in the house, by the open door, in the sunlight.  I made a pie this afternoon and I felt the satisfaction that came from such simple acts when my children were small and my days were spent at home with them.  September brings dozens of memories to my mind, crisp as the apples on the backyard tree.  If my chronic migraines have been a curse, the time spent at home has been a blessing. I am no so busy rushing around that I miss the comfort of my home, the beauty of my neighborhood and the goodness of the God who is my constant, but overlooked, companion.  Surely He who gives the plants rest, will give me rest also, if only I take the time to realize it.