A SPECIAL DEDICATION TO THE FLOOD VICTIMS AND FAMILIES IN ATLANTA, GEORGIA.  THIS SEASONAL FLOOD OF UNFORSEEN PROPORTIONS COMES ONCE EVERY 100 YEARS.

WITH THE CHANGE OF SEASONS COMES UNPREDICTABLE WEATHER; SOMETIMES WITH DEVASTATION, MOST OFTEN WITH A FORCE OF NATURE THAT CAN TAKE OUR BREATH AWAY.

WITH THE DAWNING OF AUTUMN, MY FAVORITE SEASON, I HAVE SLIPPED INTO MY FAVORITE ATTIRE TO ATTEND THIS MAGICAL SHOW PUT ON BY MOTHER NATURE, IN ALL HER SPLENDOR.

Stepping outside my front door this morning I noticed tha sun streaming through my porch flowers, illuminating the rich colors which have endured.  An Autumn display surrounds me, this crisp, energetic morning.

Seemingly, summer has morphed into fall, leaving behind some bold reminders that Mother Nature hesitantly moves away from her sultry hot nights, ice cold libations to soothe the endless heat and the skimpy attire that marks her playful season.

The remnants of once plentiful Black-eyed Susans that adorned the yard, are now making room for the falling pine needles that will carpet the landscape before fall's surrender to snow.

Fading oranges with wilting blossoms that spilled over terracotta edges, will soon be gone; put away for another year.  Observing these changes in seasonal colors, both saddens me momentarily; delights me in the smells of Autumn that tease my senses.  I can feel the chill in the air and the promise of an early freeze.  Autumn invigorates me.  It energizes my soul and inspires my mind.

The first signs of the changing Aspen leaves, promises more colors of bleeding crimsons, ambers and burnt browns that will paint the new canvas that is Fall.  I take it all in.  I long for more.

The playful pine cones drop in sequence, alerting me to the hours of yard clean-up to come.  Hundreds, maybe more, splatter the terrain in every direction.  Reminders that it is time to bring out the sweaters, fleeces, warm cozy blankets, for the cold nights to come.

The White Thorn mingles with the pine trees and taunts us with her sharp needles, competing for space and survival, soon to be blanketed in snow.  Spring will come and remind us that this bushy weed must be eliminated before the children return to play in our hillsides.

The squirrels and chipmunks are industriously gathering food, bits of pine cones, making small homes beneath the earth, whitnessed by hundreds of small openings in every direction.  The birds serenade as they, too, prepare for the changing season.  It is a symphony that one hears, only at this time of the year.  Nature's cycle for survival is most apparent to me during this ellusive time of the year.  It excites and soothes me.

I return to the front of our cabin to drink in the colors that remain.  I am reassured that they will survive another day and several more weeks, perhaps...before the drop in temperature takes them away, leaving only dry, colorless leaves in the once moist, fertile soil.

It will be difficult to say goodbye to our abundant Indian summer that melts into Fall.  It will be a sigh of relief, however, to say hello to peaceful, cool evenings, leaving the windows open just enough to allow the musty smell of Autumn leaves to permeate the bedroom air, guaranteeing a restful night's sleep.

No more noisy fans.  No more sweaty sheets. No more sun burn and sand in our sneakers. No more air conditioning, mosquitos or yellow jackets on the deck to disrupt our summer barbeques.

...just the sights, smells and feelings of another rebirth which renews my spirit; encourages more creativity and finds gratitude in every falling leaf.

With this season, I am at peace.

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