I fully believe that it is up to each one of us to take care of our history. Men and women through the generations have died for our rights and liberties. Whether it be family chart, library or quiet battlefield, soil rich with our ancestors blood, we are the caretakers of what they have given down to us trusting we will take the job seriously. I wish I understood why a Walmart is more important than a battle field or why richly appointed board rooms was more important than a library. Higher government, don't you think you can do without one less Cross pen or skim 10 percent off your entertainment budget just to save ONE Library. America, wake up!
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Book of Me, Written by You Prompt 4 - Favorite Season
The Book of Me, Written by You. A writing exercise that I am taking part in because I always feel like I am chasing dead people and not documenting the "alive" people. I hope to teach you a little about me as I learn about you.
My absolute favorite season is AUTUMN! Spring comes in a close second but I love everything about fall accept that it is so short and then we have Winter… it's not my favorite.
Fall, to me, is the harvest and the richness of the bounty from a long period of summer work. It's the colors that spring to life in reds, oranges and golds. It's the feeling, that internal clock, that you can feel when the garden slows down and starts to go to its dormancy to sleep. I am out there with that last zucchini plant and that one almost big enough zucchini to pick saying come on, come on, give me this one last zucchini! It's trying but it would rather grow on a 85 degree day not 50! It's about the rows of jarred tomatoes, all the jams from sweet smelling harvests, salsa's and fruit butters and the freezer full of every vegetable your garden could imagine this year. It's the melancholy was we trim back those herbs and perennials we take so much joy from as they bloom happily for us all summer long and telling them I will see them again in spring. It's catching the last whiff of mouth watering fragrances of basil and thyme, sage, rosemary and that delicious smelling pineapple sage. It's watching the birds quickly devour every last minute seed and berry but they know I will take care of them all winter with plentiful seed. There is that pang of sadness as the hummingbird I bonded with stuck around as long as she could. She has been gone a week and a half and I miss her, she is very playful. It's the slowly turning and vibrant beauty of the leaves beginning to turn… it seems like it will never happen and then suddenly it is over. It's feeling that breeze turning cold and watching those big fluffy clouds with the dark grey bottoms scudding across the sky. It's yet too early to whisper that four letter word… s.n.o.w. It's the wood stoves and fireplaces cranking up and that homey smell of wood smoke in the air.. I am a nester… Autumn fits me like a glove.
I remember as a child my sister and I would spend what seemed hours making a pile of leaves to scatter them in a matter of seconds and then we would do it again. Fall is about Halloween, pumpkins, and corn mazes; a holiday that has turned out to be my children's favorite. I made it special when they were little and they haven't forgotten. They still love to dress up. It's about Thanksgiving, a holiday that has turned out to be more important to me than I can ever express. It just seems to me that this is the one holiday a family can come together, repair and dare to dream of more wonderful holidays to come.
As I close my eyes and let my senses take over… these are some of my favorite things: The crunch of dried leaves under my feet. The cold air that just smells so good. The sound of a rake (in honesty, the sound of someone else raking). The crackling sound and smell of a roaring fire. The taste of apple cider, donuts, apple pie, apple butter (most likely a good apple harvest year!) The silence in the wee hours of the morning, those little birds are sleeping in now. The sense of accomplishment I feel with all I harvested, foraged at farm markets and created to carry the summer season along with me. A snuggly blanket and a good book, something there is not much time for in summer.