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Frosty Letters

Frost edges every blade of grass;
Freezes it into a fairyland of white,
But the oak is only beginning to drop her sculpted leaves
Drop them like handwritten letters from spring
When they first popped from buds and began growing,
When they loaded the tree with leathery green
From summer when they shaded the children playing,
When a circle of day lilies circled the tree,
From autumn when they flew like flags
When we first noticed them begin to turn brown
When they rattled and fluttered and shook in the wind.
Frost trims each letter in fragile lace
Each letter has a message to deliver to winter
A letter of seasons and hope, change, and promise.

Appealing Fruit

 

“If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe.” Carl Sagan


 

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Lattice top pie made from ingredients provided by the inventor of the universe.

 

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This blue bowl was shaped and crafted by a trained potter. This apple was shaped and handcrafted by the original potter.

 

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“An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Why don’t doctors like apples?

 

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“It wasn’t an apple from the tree that caused the trouble in the Garden of Eden; it was the pair on the ground.” unknown

 

“Anyone can count the seeds in an apple, but only God can count the number of apples in a seed.” Robert H. Schuller

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“Just when we are certain we have seen everything wonderful in the world, God surprises us!”  c.e.hollis

 

 



 

 

 

 

A New Season

d65e7-grapesandcountrysidejourney170Today the wind is blowing and the wind chimes clang so loud their music has turned into racket. I may have to go take them down and lay them across the porch swing seat for a day or two. The wind is gusty and it is the kind that comes from the south in the morning, then seems to come from the east, later from the north, and then brings cold from the northwest.

So begins a new season––our autumn is coming to us. Our summer has overstepped it’s boundaries and the themometer on the porch reads eighty degrees even today. Tomorrow is forecast sunny with a high of  seventy.

Change of season, like all change, seems to come suddenly even when behind schedule, even when past due. We expect it and watch for it, dread it and then long for it. Finally––we open hearts to it and hug it to us joyfully.

I walked out among the peacn trees this morning and saw it is nearly time for the shucks to dry and begin splitting. Soon the ground will be littered with pecans and we’ll be filling buckets and baskets with the treasure. Our mama cows are delivering  three new calves to us this fall. Autumn comes and always makes us feel rich indeed.