Today, I woke up, and there was fog outside.
Now, I realize that to many of you, a foggy September morning doesn't seem like much, but to me, it speaks of wonders and miracles and awesome loveliness that comes but once a year.
One of the most wonderful things about the world is that there are four seasons, and what happens between September and December is nothing short of miraculous. Every September, I can count on the maple tree in front of my house beginning to blush red, on whispers of fog curling down the street, and the apple trees becoming heavy laden with red and yellow freckles. And each year, I am struck dumb with the awesomeness of the beauty of it all.
I could say that fall is my favorite time of year because the kids have gone back to school, and the chaotic, oppressive heat of summer is over. And they do, and it is. But that's not why fall is my favorite.
I could say that fall is my favorite because it's that inbetween time of the year, when you don't have to worry about your heat or your A/C, and you can just lounge around in your jeans and be comfortable. And this is true. But that's not why fall is my favorite.
I could say that fall is my favorite because it's full of apple dunking and hay rides and corn mazes and all sorts of fun things that I loved to do as a child. And it is. But that's not why fall is my favorite.
I could say that fall is my favorite because it's the time that kids get to dress up as pirates and princesses and Lost Boys and roam the streets like ghouls, scaring away demons and devils. And they do. But that's not why fall is my favorite.
I could say that fall is my favorite because it's the time of festivals. Of people bringing the harvest in, of apples and pumpkins polka-dotting the fields, of the celebration of harvest and home, and of food and warmth and love. And this happens, and it is absolutely wonderful. But that's not why fall is my favorite.
Fall is my favorite time of the year, first and foremost, because of its utter beauty. Fall is the time when God reaches out with His paintbrush and covers the earth with a loveliness that is never seen any other time of the year. It is the time of the year when trees burst into flame, when ice faeries dance on the grass in the early morning, when the sky is full of an ocean of blue-ness, and when the smoke of little cat feet fog creeps and curls around the fields. It is my favorite time of the year, because there is nothing, NOTHING more beautiful in the natural world than a maple tree in the fall, and after seeing one you know you could stand before one all day, almost crying at the loveliness of it all.
Happy first few days of fall.