Farewell to shadows of bluebells on white chicken coop walls…Farewell to pleasant afternoons hanging laundry on the line in the company of friendly toads…Farewell to grasshoppers, and white trumpet vines, and all other such elegant pairings…Farewell to barefoot days at the edge of the lake……Farewell to the haunting serenade of loons… Farewell to daisy bouquets made by small hands, and smoky sunsets, gifts from forests burning far away…Farewell to cumulonimbus, those splendid, tall ships sailing by in the sea of the sky…Farewell to restless, flitting warblers in green, green meadows…Farewell to lush gardens decked in the thousand diamonds of sudden morning showers…Farewell to the brief, warm nights, sparkling with celestial beauty and fireflies, humming with mosquitoes…Farewell to all the sun-ripened berries hiding under the leaves…Farewell to picturesque encounters on whimsical summer evening drives…Farewell to all the babies, now raised and grown…Farewell to dancing swallowtails in ballrooms of flowers…Farewell, sweet summer; welcome, glorious autumn!
This was a November unmatched for beauty, as autumn lingered gloriously long—and these are the quintessential pictures of it in my mind.
The landscape awash in rich browns and golds…the rustle of drying grasses in the gentle breeze as the sunlight gilded it all to royalty… the frosty mornings…followed by warm and golden days…But kind as it’s been to us, November is still a month of transitions as it must be, a split personality, if you will, bridging the gap between autumn and winter—and “they say”, whoever they may be, that the time of the inevitable change is at hand. There’s a winter storm warning for the weekend, and it’s time to finish that project of putting small girls’ mittens on strings that I’ve been putting off because we just haven’t needed them yet.
So, gladly anticipating the approach of a new season and a world of white on its way, I take a moment to bid one last adieu to autumn. It’s been lovely—see you next year!
“O God…You have established all the boundaries of the earth; you have made summer and winter.” (Psalm 74:17)
(And the seasons in between—and I’m grateful!)
No camera can capture the feel of cool morning dew on bare feet, or the warmth of the rising sun on my face as it burnt through the swirling mists on the lake.
You can’t know that sky high over my head was patterned with a magnificent rippling pattern of cirrocumulus clouds, all shining and white.
Perhaps a video recording might capture the liquid trilling flute of red-winged blackbirds, the trumpeting of many swans and the distant drumming of a grouse that blended in symphonic harmony all around me—but I doubt it would do it justice.
If you looked very closely, you might be able to tell that there is a miniature scene inside every single one of those water droplets, that, if magnified, would be a sparkling world of a thousand blades of grass strung with more pearls of dew with a million more worlds inside.
These pictures are a lovely glimpse of this moment in time, 6:36 AM—but there was so much more.
That’s kind of how it is with heaven. We read about streets of gold and robes of white and singing praises around the throne of God, but they are all only glimpses into wonders that we can’t even imagine. Lovely glimpses, yes—but there will be so much more. I can hardly wait!
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully…” (1 Corinthians 13:12)
My favorite color is green, but especially so at this time of year. Am I the only one? I kind of suspect that a lot of people have a renewed appreciation for this vibrant color of life in the spring. There’s a whole lot more of it that’s going to be happening outside really soon, but here’s a little close-up celebration of the way green is beginning to appear everywhere we look.
“And the earth brought forth grass,