Fall, Autumn, Season of Harvest…these differing words that define the same season bring imagery of wonderful and peaceful memories. We all realize that the autumnal equinox brings the change of colors in the leafy trees and the cooler winds announcing the call of winter snow. The ever dimming of the daylight keeps us reminded that summer has past and refreshing the sweaters out of storage is at hand. Yet, in all of this collage of the mind of years gone by…nothing stands out quite like grandpa’s farm.
As a boy, I could be found romping through the tall grass and the reds and golds of the maples on great adventures…well adventures in my “world.” The deep woods would be a backdrop to my safaris looking for lost temples and cities where treasures for the taking were to be had. Treasures of rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and other gems that were made tangible in the shapes of rocks and other babbles from my closet of conquest. my explorations might take me “spellunkering” through the corrals of Grandpa’s barn. Journeys were hours being days and miles being nothing more then going through portals of my youthful whims.
The Fall season also brought me closer to my grandpa. He was a “rennaisance” man strictly in how he related to others and made lessons of life come through in miraculous ways. Grandpa was born of immigrants from Germany and raised in American ideals of work hard and waste nothing. He never cheated a man and the words he spoke carried more power then the decrees of foreign royalty. People knew my grandpa and respected him…for who he was and what he represented. This gentle soul to those that knew and loved him…carried his head high and his heart humbled. Many fall days were spent in his watch care and in his devotion to family. He taught me that a man that cannot be true to his convictions was someone that could not be true to himself. He did not know God until his last days, but I can only imagine what questions he had for His Saviour and Creator when he reached those distant shores.
Autumn, Fall, Harvest…all say one thing to me. My grandpa. Unlike the change of nature…he didn’t change in strength. Like the wonder of life…He remains a part of who I am. When I see September approach…I remember and smile.