Viking

Falling

Raindrops are drumming mournfully on the windows as I sit here, wrapped in a thick, warm sweater, writing. If I didn’t have other things to do I’d go hole up in the kitchen and bake for the rest of the day. Sigh… I’ll just do the next best thing; I’ll light a Master’s Hand Candle Co candle, Harvest, one of my favorites. I love the spicy tones of the candle. It reminds me of falling leaves and autumn.


Autumn is one of my favorite seasons; it’s a time of change, a time to look at the bounty of the passing year. It is a time to curl up on the couch with a really good book and a cup of mocha. Raking up leaves and watching little kids jump into the pile, squealing in delight as the make the leaves fall a second time. Some families like mine do a lot of cooking and baking during the autumn and winter months. Pies that fill the house with the spicy scents of cinnamon and cloves, the warmth of gooey apples, and the familiar scent of pumpkins that make you think of whipped cream. Or the cookies that we bake, snappy gingerbread, fresh lemon triangles, and to kill for chocolate crinkles.
Autumn gives us a chance to be in the kitchen for long periods that we never quite get in the summer time. Some of the best conversations I’ve had with my mom have been in the kitchen. And no, we’re not Italian. While the days get shorter you seem to have more time for family time, reading, watching movies. I thank God that he gave times of change; I think he knew how boring things would be without seasons of change.

A random poem I like.
A poem by Robert Frost:

October
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
To-morrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
To-morrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow,

Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know;
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away;
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the wall.