Time for Pumpkins and Apples

It's officially fall. I got out my jeans jacket yesterday and wore long pants instead of capris. The A.C. is off. A blanket will be added to our bed tonight. I'm wearing socks and a sweatshirt. The blinds are open instead of closed and I'm drinking hot water instead of a glass of ice water. The calendar will turn to October on Saturday!

It's time for trips to the pumpkin patch and the apple orchard and pretty displays of mums and cornstalks bundled and standing next to straw bales and scarecrows. There are flocks of birds overhead and changing colors all around. Fall is a time of rosy cheeks and cold fingers, football games and fleece blankets.

I love the fragrance of fall; that cool, musty scent of falling leaves and freshly mown grass. The thick dusty clouds that hang over the fields of freshly combined beans and trail behind the trucks and wagons that repeatedly travel to the elevators or farms and back again. I begin to crave the fragrance of warm apple cider or freshly baked pumpkin bars or apple cake. Or the crackling of a bonfire or a burning pile of leaves.

I love the sounds of fall; the crunch of leaves under your feet as you walk across the yard. The frequent honking of Canadian geese as they move to the next watering hole for a rest. The rumble of farm equipment running smoothly; the beating of the combine as it nears the end rows. The whistles and buzzers at the local football games, accented by roars and cheers from the crowd that signal an exciting play. The patterned chants of the cheerleaders and the rhythmic beating of the drummers who lead the marching band into formation.

I soak in the color of the sunrises and sunsets, marveling in their beauty as the clouds reflect the light of morning and evening. And I thank God for the change of seasons and the gift of fall produce.

"The sun rises and the sun sets, and hurries back to where it rises. The wind blows to the south and turns to the north; round and round it goes, ever returning on its course. All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again...The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing. What has been will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:5-7, 8b NIV).