Longing for Autumn

Yesterday I was driving to the grocery store when it occurred to me that very soon, in my native rural West Virginia, the trees would begin showcasing their jewel like tones in celebration of autumn. The air would be crisp, and it would be the perfect time for hiking along the mountain trails I have known for so many years, and enjoying the crunch of maple and oak leaves beneath my feet. I enjoy these walks alone the best, allowing time for introspection and daydreams. Its my way to renew myself, and visit with memories. M favorite is a hike on the ridge near my grandparents farm- approaching the ridge ever so slowly, letting the breeze rush up the side of the mountain and greet me like an old friend. From here I can see all the hills and valleys of the small town where my parents, grandmothers, sister, aunts, and cousins reside. Taking the sentimental journey along the path of autumn, the time when vegetation begins to change and pass away, remembering those who have also passed away- like my beloved grandfather who enjoyed the stillness of gardening as much as I. I have resolved many problems along this hike, and found respite from daily stresses with a quick morning jaunt here. I have never lived so far from the ridge that I couldn't drive there and park my car at my grandparents for a thirty minute walk in the a.m. before work, or in the p.m. before dinner with my parents. My dog, Mr. Smith, knows this ridge as well as I, and would stop at the top of the hill while I walked down and looped the big acorn tree. He would roll over on his back and "Swim" in the leaves until I turn and make my way back up the ridge after gathering a pocket full of acorns for homemade potpourri. Mr. Smith has been walking here for 13 years- as long as he has been alive. We both would stop and enjoy the coolness of the air, then head back toward my grandfathers to pick grapes off the vine. Dogs can't eat grapes- but I sure could.

My mother told me yesterday that this is the first year in 50 that my grandmother wouldn't be making grape jelly. At 87, she says she is too tire to make any.

And I now live 7 hours away from the ridge that has beckoned me for long walks and quiet reflection since I was a teenager.

So, yesterday was a somewhat sad day, and I felt homesick. Who would of thought a trip to Starbucks could change my attitude?

I stopped there to get a light venti decaf caramel frap, and instead left with their autumn pumpkin pie frap. I drank half on the way home, and froze the other half until this morning. And then, when all the babies were sleeping, and my husband is sleeping, I thawed out my frap and have been reading autumn articles at Southern Living online. I have been looking at pumpkin recipes and debating when to make my first gingerbread. I did twenty minutes of yoga. And while I am not outdoors walking along my favorite ridge with my favorite dog, I do feel that even an hour while babies nap is an opportunity to enjoy introspection. It is these stolen moments that will sustain me when everyones crying and quiet can't be found. And of course, I can visit the ridge again and again in my mind, shutting my eyes and imagining all the scents and sounds I know so well beckoning me from right here in my living room.

So, this isn't a baby post. This is a post just about myself, written when I had some moments to myself. And here are some lovely autumn images to accompany it.