Fall is a true celebration in Arkansas...a welcome change from our very hot summers.
Snow in Arkansas is a rare treat...always a holiday for all...complete with Rotel Dip!
Black-Eyed Susans are strong enough to survive our Arkansas summers with minimal care.The Seasons are Changing
(Originally Written Fall 2006)
(Originally Written Fall 2006)
Life is fluid like a mountain stream. We desperately try to make it more like the river stones over which the water flows - smooth and stable, but our attempts are feeble.
Life continues... unstoppable.
The seasons change...
and I feel the change coming now.
It's now cool in the mornings, cool enough for a sweatshirt. I see some yellow leaves popping up on a nearby tree. My summer zinnias are looking weary of blooming.
My dad is walking quite a bit slower these days. My youngest son is dreaming of the deep voice we expect will arrive any week now. My oldest has his eyes set toward college, and he spent last weekend out-of-town hunting with a buddy - no adults.
What a far place from watching him ride away on his training wheeled bike - out of my reach where if he fell I wouldn't be able to catch him. I remember being afraid that day because I could see him, but I couldn't touch him. Kinda like a mama bird watching from a distance as her baby bird flies. I know training wheels aren't like flying, but it seemed so extreme and risky at the time. Would he remember to look for cars as he had been taught?
In a blink there will be one, maybe two less plates at the Thanksgiving table. Just a few turns of the calendar pages and my hunter won't be leaving his stinky socks in the bathroom, in the hallway, on his bedroom floor.
Today I won't be who I was yesterday. Every glance in the morning mirror reflects a wrinkle that wasn't quite there the day before.
P.S. Thanksgiving 2008, in fact, did bring two empty plates to the family table. One, was my Cadet's and the other my dad's. My dad suffered a stroke September 2008 and died from complications December 12,2008.
A change is coming.
My dad is walking quite a bit slower these days. My youngest son is dreaming of the deep voice we expect will arrive any week now. My oldest has his eyes set toward college, and he spent last weekend out-of-town hunting with a buddy - no adults.
Wow.
What a far place from watching him ride away on his training wheeled bike - out of my reach where if he fell I wouldn't be able to catch him. I remember being afraid that day because I could see him, but I couldn't touch him. Kinda like a mama bird watching from a distance as her baby bird flies. I know training wheels aren't like flying, but it seemed so extreme and risky at the time. Would he remember to look for cars as he had been taught?
The season is changing.
In a blink there will be one, maybe two less plates at the Thanksgiving table. Just a few turns of the calendar pages and my hunter won't be leaving his stinky socks in the bathroom, in the hallway, on his bedroom floor.
Life is flowing swiftly.
Time truly waits for no man.
Today I won't be who I was yesterday. Every glance in the morning mirror reflects a wrinkle that wasn't quite there the day before.
The season is changing...
and, like a mountain stream, the season's change can not be stopped.
(Added January 2009)P.S. Thanksgiving 2008, in fact, did bring two empty plates to the family table. One, was my Cadet's and the other my dad's. My dad suffered a stroke September 2008 and died from complications December 12,2008.
The season has changed.
Carpe Diem.
(Added November 2009)
P.P.S. Here I am 3 years later, once again, observing life's changing rhythms. Piles of leaves, fire pit and chiminea, football play-offs, thanksgiving break. Two in college, a 16 year old with wheels and a new-found interest in females.
I'm looking forward to my middle son's visit from college... the laziness of firepit evenings... the great conversations that emerge when our family takes the time to do nothing...together.
P.P.S. Here I am 3 years later, once again, observing life's changing rhythms. Piles of leaves, fire pit and chiminea, football play-offs, thanksgiving break. Two in college, a 16 year old with wheels and a new-found interest in females.
I'm looking forward to my middle son's visit from college... the laziness of firepit evenings... the great conversations that emerge when our family takes the time to do nothing...together.
I was just talking to somebody about that....our season is changing too :)
ReplyDeleteLovely home. Your poem is beautiful. I'm sorry for your loss with your Dad. But I embrace your message of Carpe Diem. Thanks for the visit.
ReplyDeleteSo pensive. So much calendar page-turning.
ReplyDeleteI wish you a blissful and blessed Thanksgiving, too much food for comfort, and plenty of time around the chiminea. Can't wait to see some pics!
Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry to read about the loss of your dad. You write so elegantly about the changing of the seasons, but I can imagine the hurt that can go along with that. Thanks for sharing. :)
Hey there!! I love your seasonal pictures. I miss the seasons. It is hard to believe Thanksgiving is this week. And come Christmas, it won't feel any different. And March, and July ... yep, all about the same.
ReplyDeleteCrunch some fall leaves for me!! :)
Wow, what great pics of the seasons - loved them! And your poem, your beautiful poem....... the seasons do change and the years certainly sneak by. Because they say the only constant, is change of course. Life goes on but it is never the same - we miss loved ones who leave us, and are proud of who our children become, little by little. I think the seasons must be God's subtle reminder that things are always changing, and that the progress is good thing. Carpe diem indeed.
ReplyDeletexoxo