December we took possession of our new house in our new community. Winter seemed to take a long time to break as I waited in anticipation of what would spring up in the flower beds. I knew there would be purple cone flowers, other than that, it was all a mystery. Spring arrived and I gave all the beds some housekeeping. There appeared to be some hostas, irises, day lilies. Daily I watched to see what was to be.
The beds were quite the mess. I wasn’t holding out too much hope, they appeared to have been neglected for a few years. I told myself not to be too surprised if the plants took a year to re-establish themselves. The bearded and flag irises did poorly. Less than a half dozen blossoms on four bunches. The one nearest the house was mush. I had to removed a number of rotted tubers. I expect to transplant it later in the season.
There was an abundance of hostas, they were late in the southern most bed which is quite shaded. I’m going to have to thin them out. All of them bloomed, beautifully.
Deuteronomy 32:2 May my teaching drop like the rain, my speech condense like the dew; like gentle rain on grass, like showers on new growth.
“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.