All day I have been thinking about autumn. And it’s not just me! Everyone in the neighborhood was commenting on our sudden and wonderfully chilly air. The sun was out, the breeze was crisp, orange leaves were drifting towards the earth, and acorns were crashing down like raindrops. It finally felt like autumn made its appearance.
When summer takes its leave and fall comes into focus, the field below our little green house is shaded by our mighty oak trees. The field is no greener, but the season is told by the thimble-sized, tan acorn tops and crunch beneath your feet. In the dappled late-afternoon sunlight I walked across the dead leaves and patchy weeds to the garden. The garden gate has that common squeak of metal on metal when it opens and the distinct clap of the latch falling back in place.
I slowly navigated the small garden maze to find the reddest of the red tomatoes and clipped a generous handful of parsley. These were going to make a wonderful tomato soup with the homegrown additions of caramelized bulb onions, minced garlic, and red bell pepper. Fresh baked sourdough graced the table and helped to make a hearty, warm meal.
After a little relaxation (and digestion), I walked down the stairs and headed for the Rabbitry. Everyone was fed, water bottles were filled, and each rabbit was given a pat on the head. As I walked back through the house’s red front door, I simultaneously spotted a fire in the wood stove and smelled the lingering aroma of baked bread mingling with new smoke. Trevor had decided to burn a few papers in the wood stove. But for that brief moment, cold autumn evenings with pumpkin cookies and socks warming by the fire sprung into my mind.
For that brief moment it was truly autumn.