My soul finds a deep unshakable gladness to be bumping up and down in a hay-filled wagon as we pass through orchard after beautiful orchard on the meandering dirt road. The wind is brushing by with fall on it's breath, but the warm sun makes jackets unnecessary. Cal is wrapped snugly against me, and is still and content under the folds of green cloth. Drinking in the air, long, and satisfied; I attempt to internalize this place, in order that I might bring it out later, when the fields are cold and dead, and we are keeping ourselves indoors. I shared Charles Dickens' poem with the kids during our Poetry tea-time this week, and it seems to fit today:
Hail to the merry Autumn days,
when yellow corn-fields shine,
Far brighter than the costly cup that
holds the monarch's wine!
Hail to the merry harvest time,
the gayest of the year,
The time of rich and bounteous crops,
rejoicing and good cheer!
'Tis pleasant on a fine Spring mourn to see the buds expand,
'Tis pleasant in the summer time to view the teeming land;
'Tis pleasant on a Winter's night to crouch around the blaze,
--But what are joys like these, my boys, to Autumn's merry days!
In order to make up for being trapped inside all summer, I'm attempting to revel in the fall. I had one absolute must this year, and that was to take a trip down to Santaquin to visit Rowley's Big Red Barn. It's one of my most favorite fall activities and we haven't been since I was pregnant with Ruby. We've also hit up Jaker's several times, baked Grandma Lemmon's Owl Cookies, brewed a batch of Granny Jan's Halloween Wassail, read some Edgar Allen Poe and other Halloween books, enjoyed a Sunday evening bonfire with Kelly and Esther and family, touched up the paint on our chicken coop, snuggled our kitties (some of us less than others), and worked some more on the bunk beds. Cal is maintaining his quiet, contented baby status, and has been happy to sleep-along with us on our adventures.
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