Knee Deep in Autumn

There is no doubt that my favorite season of the year is indeed Autumn. There is the anticipation of the hunt but there is much more to it then that.  There are those perfect fall days that beckon to be participated in. Winter is interminably long with cold dreary bleak days and bare trees waving empty fingers at the sky. Spring literally springs upon us. One morning we walk out and it is warm and the birds are singing and, while it may get cold again, inexorably the season crawls forward as spring flowers leap from the ground and one day you suddenly notice that the trees are full of leaves and, gasp, you have to mow the grass! Still, despite its fast appearance, spring is with us for weeks. The same with summer. Because of the long days, summer seems to be the longest season of the year. In the heat of a summer evening, those cold, snowy winter nights seem to have happened somewhere far off in a distant land.

Fall is different. On the calendar it last for weeks but those few days of fall perfection do not. You know the days I mean. The color on the trees is peaked. The dried out corn in the fields is under harvest, the hay is golden yellow and giant rolls of it can be seen across the country side. The wild flowers are mature and while the leaves and stalks begin to dry, the colorful fall blooms wave in the breeze in stark contrast to the ripe golden brown hues around them. Birds and animals are busy all day long plucking ripened berries and wild grapes from shrubs and vines in preparation for cold days to follow. Everywhere there is the steady thud, thud, thud, of nut-laden trees dropping their bounty on leaf-strewn forest floors, lawns, and roadsides. On clear days, hawks can be seen far overhead wending their way South on their fall migrations but a moment perhaps to enjoy the day and the bounty below.

It is these days that make me want to get out and roll around in fall. I want to soak it up and get it all over me. As a hunter, I become part of the harvest but I can never seem to full immerse myself no matter how hard I try. It seems like there is so much Autumn out there that no matter what I do I can not get enough. And it doesn't last long. One good wind and rain storm and, while the bounty seems to be gone. Obviously it is still there for the taking but the beauty is removed. Colorful leaves are ripped from their stems and dumped unceremoniously amongst the ruin on the ground to turn into a brown and grey mush. Nuts and berries are shaken violently to the ground to be quickly consumed or rot. Farmers hurry to bring in the last of the harvest and get it snugged away to feed hungry mouthes through the ensuing winter.

Every day through the fall I watch out my car window for those perfect days. Even leaving work, I stop to pick up a few crisp sycamore leaves and crush them in my hands and enjoy the sweet autumn odor they emit. I go out of my way to walk through a wind-stacked pile of crispy, colorful leaves and close my eyes and listen to the crunch crunch crunch as I walk to my car. I enjoy the day and look forward to when my time is my own and I can be out there every day knee deep in Autumn.