The hills are putting on their autumn display of color. Muted russet, flaming scarlet, joyful yellow vie for beauty on the sloping hillsides between northwest Arkansas and northeast Oklahoma. It’s a beautiful drive, with the river on one side of the highway, the hills on the other.
Earthy scents of damp leaves and soil slipped into the car. I smelled the freshness of the river, and something else, the elusive, mysterious essence of autumn. The woods hold many secrets, the age-old rhythm of life and death, wild animals prowling among the shadows, the memory of early people who lived there. Now, the highway cuts through and I can only imagine what I cannot see.
Yesterday was hot and windy, a precursor of a storm. After returning to Arkansas, I watched clouds coming my way from Oklahoma. Thunder woke me last night. It was some of the loudest and scariest I’ve heard in a long time.
The storm seemed to clear the way for cooler weather. Leaves will fall more quickly now as the days grow shorter. The woods will change too. Trees will begin to take on the darkness of autumn. Animals will do what they’ve always done, preparing for cold days, getting ready to tuck in and endure the winter. I am only an onlooker, an outsider, catching glimpses now and then of the amazing cycle of nature as the mystery of the seasons continues.
For thou shalt be in league with the stones of the field; and the beasts of the field shall be at peace with thee. (Job 5:23)
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