Fall Leaves


It’s snowing, lightly, this morning.  Fall has been mild, long, splendid in colour that has soften to taupes and beige and brown.  The expanse of fields preparing for sleep were glorious in their remembered harvests.  I thoroughly enjoyed the trip north yesterday.  Fall is leaving, and so have all the leaves.

 

Ezekiel 47:12   On the banks, on both sides of the river, there will grow all kinds of trees for food. Their leaves will not wither nor their fruit fail, but they will bear fresh fruit every month, because the water for them flows from the sanctuary. Their fruit will be for food, and their leaves for healing.

Psalm 144:15


“Happy are the people to whom such blessings fall; happy are the people whose God is the LORD.”

It’s a bit of a stretch, surely, this play on the word fall.  It is the season, after all, the season of putting to rest, of cleaning up, of preparing for a time half a year into the future.  There is satisfaction, and blessings, in harvest and the change of colours within Creation.  The light is different, the days are shorter, sleep comes more easily and longer, there is this feeling of settling in.  Someone commented recently that it feels like she should hibernate, however that involves not eating, so the inclination was quickly dismissed.  The garden offerings taste amazing, too good to pass by.

The cabbages have once contributed to our favourite cabbage soup.  The others rest in the cold storage under the outside steps.  The carrots are almost gone now, chopped into tidbit treats for the Sheltie, or grated into premeasured packages for carrot cake and comfortable soups.  I attempted growing purple carrots this year, because, well, they are purple!  Same taste, deliciously sweet, just a different appearance.  Last night we had elk and barley soup with mushrooms, onion and carrots.  It was filling and fulfilling.  So musty and wildly tasty.  The meat was a gift from congregation members, greatly appreciated and enjoyed.

Fall brings one of my favourite scenes.  I am continually thrilled by the contrast of white barked aspens against a vivid blue sky.  I can almost smell the sharp sourness of the smooth, brilliant bark and the musty death of fallen leaves.  This was taken just on the edge of Rocky Mountain House, Alberta by the museum, a small rest stop with picnic tables and washrooms closed for the season.  It puts me in mind of a cathedral, natural architecture that draws the eye towards the arch of the skies, commanded by God, made firm when the fountains of the deeps were established (Prov 8:28).

Fall is not my most favourite season, but yet I give thanks for all the sights, and smells and tastes that God grants us at this time of year.  Blessings surely fall upon us and happiness results.