October 10, 2008 ~ Beautiful Texas Autumn
Hands down, and without a doubt, autumn is my favorite season. Now, maybe if I lived in a different state I’d love spring or even summer more, but a Texas autumn is more than just a change of colors – it’s the welcome respite after the traditional annual slow-roasting that goes on from May through September.
There’s a decided nip in the morning air now, and this is my time. It’s the time for my walk with John and Charlie, and the time for tending my little suburban garden. It’s changed now, you know, from when I first introduced it to you. The vegetable garden is all gone. And I had such big plans. It was to be my “victory garden” like they grew during WWII. I planned it all out on paper, did a fair bit of research on what we’d need to be successful, and convinced the family that it would be fun. In March, John, Donovan and I brought in stones, dirt, plants, night crawlers, fertilizer – the works. It was a thing of true beauty. We had high hopes for an abundance of fresh veggies and fruit. We took such pride in that little patch of green. Then I got sick, and landed in the hospital for 2 weeks. Everybody was trekking up to see me and our schedules were kaput. I told all the nurses and doctors at the hospital about our little garden, and how I couldn’t wait to get back to it. John and Donovan had done a good job of keeping it for me while I was away, but once I was back home I just could never stay ahead of the bugs and the birds. Those little buggers enjoyed the bounty of our “victory garden” – we didn’t. Then Hurricane Ike took what little remained. Eventually, stubborn as I am, even I gave up and waved the white flag of surrender.
In a moment of strength and energy, I ripped it all out and started over. A changing of season gives us that dear chance – to start again.
So now my little garden patch is abloom with pink roses, wood violets, white lantana and soft blue plumbago. There’s a pink crape myrtle that holds the promise of summer color for next year. But still, in the corner, is my herb garden – they didn’t let me down. I was never without beautiful basil, thyme, rosemary, lemon balm, and a couple strawberry plants and two kinds of peppers - oh, and that little tomato plant that a bird planted in a broken pot. And now there’s cheery yellow mums peeking out amidst the shrubbery in the front yard, a fall wreath on the door, and a fat pumpkin on the stoop.
Texas autumn has arrived, and a more welcome visitor there could never be.
I’m so happy that God gives us times of cool rest from long onslaughts. Aren’t you? He gives us fresh bright mornings after long dark nights. He gives us a new season to refresh our senses, plant new seedlings, dream of new beginnings. He gives us new weeks, new months and new years to strive harder, laugh louder, and love deeper.
It’s been quite a year so far. With spring came my illness. With summer came the hope of miracles and treatment, and a big storm named Ike. But fall wafts a cooling breeze over my face and it makes me smile, makes me want to plant some flowers and rest in the sweet expectation of their colorful blooms.
Ah, Texas autumn. Undeniably, one of God’s finest creations!
