by jphilo | Sep 20, 2012 | Three Thoughts for Thursday
- Waiting for the grandbaby to arrive lacks the physical discomfort of the last months of pregnancy with our kids, but the waiting is just as hard. Any time now, Baby Philo, any time.
- Thanks to the networks’ policy of randomly scheduling series premiers whenever the spirit moves them, I missed the first episode of Parenthood and am waiting impatiently until September 27 for an update on The Big Bang Theory gang. Sometimes, I wish the networks still premiered all their new shows in the same week, like in the olden days…but with the option of online viewing to miss the political ads, of course.
- A tinge of soup weather’s been in the air the last few days. My three favorite homemade varieties are potato, turkey tortilla, and ham and bean. Yours?
by jphilo | Aug 28, 2012 | Top Ten Tuesday
What comes after an early spring and a summer of drought? An early fall, of course. My morning walks have been full of signs that autumn is right around the corner, and here are the top ten in my book.
10. The begonias on the north side of the garage are lush and full.
9. The leaves of the burning bush outside the kitchen are tinged with red.
8. Sunrise comes later each morning and sunset comes earlier.
7. The sumac is starting to turn.
6. We’re planning menus for the Labor Day Extraveganza.
5. The goldenrod’s got the Man of Steel sneezing.
4. Rain doesn’t make the pond scum disappear.
3. The spots are fading on this summer’s fawns.
2. The parks department drained the swimming pool.
1. The trees,
the trees,
the trees.
What signs of fall are appearing where you live?
by jphilo | Sep 20, 2011 | Out and About
Hiram and I have been living the west central Nebraska cowboy life since Sunday afternoon. Limited internet availability is as common to the out west experience as beyond-our-comfort-zone proximity to cattle. Hence no blog post yesterday, though I promise to tell you more about my cow-hating man’s day spent gettin’ along with those little doggies later this week. But for today, you’ll have to make do with this recycled post from two years ago about a golden fall day and the blessings to be savored in autumn.
My Golden Fall Day – Recycled
Fall is not my most favorite season, mostly because I’m the kind of person who’s always looking ahead and planning for the future rather than enjoying the present. So instead of relishing cool nights and pleasant days, the beautiful colors and signs of God’s faithfulness in another bountiful harvest, I view fall as the precursor of winter, my least favorite season.
But a goodly number of people who I love and respect think fall is the best thing since sliced bread. And last week, as I drove through the Iowa countryside on my way to some speaking engagements, I found myself agreeing with them. The corn was firing in the fields. The leaves on the trees displayed the faintest hints of yellow and orange when they waved from the roadsides. The cloudless, brilliant blue sky glimmered from one horizon to the other.
But most eye catching of all were the golden soybeans, halfway through their swift turning from green to brown. Field after field shimmered in the sunlight, a vast pirate’s treasure of glittering doubloons, piled acre upon acre, field upon field. mile upon mile.
Finally, on my way home, I pulled onto a gravel side road and photographed the scene. How could I not recored this annual flash of beauty which would soon tarnish and fade away? For once, I ignored the approach of winter, shoved aside the tasks waiting in my office, and relished the moment.
Then, I climbed into the car slowly and drove onto the highway. Winter grew closer, my tasks multiplied in my head, but nothing could steal the treasure stored in my heart. The dry smell of autumn, the crackle of leaves, the soft breeze and warm sun, the haze in the distance. My golden, fall day.
by jphilo | Sep 13, 2010 | Walking Down the Gravel Road
Starting in March, the weather in these parts has been about two weeks ahead of schedule. Nobody minded the jump on spring or summer, but in August this eager beaver weather pattern became disconcerting. Whoever heard of the corn firing in August? For those of you unfamiliar with the term, rest assured that “fired corn” will not add to our nation’s unemployment rate. It means the corn is no longer green and growing, but starting to turn brown, from the bottom up. When the corn “fires,” harvest is not far behind.
And whoever heard of the soybean fields brown and dry before the middle of September? But that’s what greeted me on my morning walk today. An entire soybean field soft and tawny, the wind rustling the brown, dead leaves and rattling the beans inside their hard, fuzzy pods.
Though the weather was perfect – bright sunshine in a blue sky, the temperature cool but not chilly, the breeze soft, the air fresh – I grew increasingly uneasy as I passed by the rows of beans. Too early, I kept thinking. Too early. And if fall is early, what about winter? Will it be early, too? Are we in for a bad winter again? I don’t like winter. I hate winter. Please not another long winter. Please.
I was almost past the field when a splash of purple caught my eye. At the edge of the field, a green vine resplendent with purple blossoms, twined its way up a beanstalk. The purple blossoms fluttered in the breeze. Their faces raised toward the sun, white centers glowing in the light, they clung tenaciously to life.
I stopped and looked at them, then walked on until the wind rustled and whispered. They won’t be here long. So I pulled out my camera, retraced my steps and went back to capture their sweet, smiling faces.
Winter is coming, it’s true. It could be early. It could be hard. It could be ugly. But today, the wind reminds me, there is beauty to enjoy.
by jphilo | Sep 10, 2008 | Out and About
This past weekend I was in a Kansas City suburb, Lee’s Summit, for a speaking engagement. I was plenty smug as I drove south, glad to trade an Iowa early fall weekend for a Missouri late summer one. In my way of thinking, the gig was an opportunity to pretend winter isn’t on the way.
Unfortunately, nobody told Missouri what I was expecting. When I got there, fall greeted me. The next morning on my walk – without a coat or sweatshirt because I was in Missouri in early September which should still be summer four hours south of my usual morning walk – the weather was damp, cool and undeniably fallish. You might assume I’m exaggerating, but this picture squelches that idea. Looks like fall, doesn’t it?
After Missouri’s nasty weather deception, I’m worried about the future. Next weekend, I’m attending a conference in Minneapolis, about three hours north of here. I’m thinking I ought to take my winter coat. Maybe even my long underwear and Hiram’s cross country skis. Definitely the winter survival car kit, complete with candles, blankets and a couple Hershey bars.
Make that a couple dozen Hershey bars, and I could learn to cope with winter. As long as it doesn’t snow. Watch out Minnesota, I’m on my way.
