Wednesday, October 23, 2013

"'It is not everyone,' said Elinor, 'who has your passion for dead leaves.'"
Jane Austen
"Sense and Sensibilites"
When a child in Kansas, our street was lined with giant elms, and in the fall between nearly every tree, piles of leaves were raked daring us children to jump in them.  Occasionally, indulgent parents allowed a leap or two before getting back to the serious business of making small bon fires.  The neighborhood was streaked with smoke at dusk.  The color of the flaming fall leaves and the licking fire intermingled, first scarlet, then golden, a holy incense offered back to God. 
"Her pleasure in the walk must arise from...the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn, that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness--that season which has drawn from every poet worthy of being read some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling."
Jane Austen
Before the sky was fully awake this morning, it was dressed with one pink polka dot cloud against the deep blue of early light.  It must have been feeling frilly today greeting the trees showing their red petticoats under yellow gowns.  In your out and about today, find one leaf, one beautiful leaf, and save it as a personal invitation to the holidays season.
"She is not afraid of the snow for her household,
For all her household are clothed with scarlet...
And she smiles at the future."
Proverbs 31:21 & 25

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