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Archive for October 10th, 2008

Capturing Autumn

Oct
10


Autumn is moving into full swing with each day here. No more is there simply a promise of color in the woods; the color is snapping, crackling, and popping everywhere I look.

Only six months ago, I was eagerly awaiting, even demanding, these leaves burst out of their buds and save me from the long, cold winter and its barren branches.

Now they’re at the end of their life cycle–which is, of course, just another beginning. The next few weeks will be the most beautiful time of the year. The leaves will go out as if in a fiery crash. I love them! And I can’t be satisfied with adoring them outdoors alone. I want them inside, with me, all the time. And why not? They’re free! And oh so plentiful. And, after all, did I not conjure them up with my late winter wishes? I think they’re mine.

I set off for a walk along the old logging trail on the hill near our new farmhouse. Dogs can never pass up a walk, and they always make it more fun.

I don’t have to go far.

The gorgeous color is everywhere. I want some of this:

Of course, nothing worth having comes easily. I have to scramble over there–

–without falling in a hole or sliding off a log or tripping over an eager helper (dog).

Beautiful leaves are worth the effort. And the mud and the scrapes and the canine assistance.

I take my bounty home….

…and claim it as my own, at least for the day or so it will last indoors. It’s like stealing a breath or putting a second in a jar. I can’t keep these autumn leaves for long–and I wouldn’t want to. Their fleeting nature is at the core of their value. But I’ve captured them, for now, for that same breath and that same second.

And tomorrow, I can catch some more!

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Visitors at the Farm

Oct
10


Blog reader “beeyourself” (pictured left) is in town visiting family (pictured center and right, handing out cookies to the goats) for the Black Walnut Festival! She dropped by the farm to meet Clover and the chickens and Coco then had a slice of Shoo-Fly Pie on the pie porch. I love meeting my online friends!

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The Slanted Little House

"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....



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