"Grandpop, Lisa and Fall Colors"

Howdy Friends,

We had drifted to the back yard, Grandpop, Lisa and me. Grandpop wasn't up to riding, or walking very far, so the chairs under the big trees just off the porch seemed a good place to rest. The view of the mountains, not so far away, but far enough to paint a glorious scene stretching across the horizon offered a spectacular backdrop for morning coffee. Grandpop and I settled into our chairs, Lisa stomped about kicking leaves, not quite ready to sit and relax. It had been a big breakfast and perhaps her fourth helping of Grandpop's buckwheat flapjacks, smothered in butter and maple syrup, had her running on a full tank.

She bent and picked up a long yellow leaf, held it skyward to peer through. "It makes the sky all yellow," she giggled. Grandpop and I smiled, it was a good thing to watch that short, blonde haired little girl giggle. Something she needed more of. Her stay with Grandpop was coming to an end when evening rolled in, and too soon this little princess would return to a world too many children live in.

We sipped our coffee and allowed Lisa to entertain us with buckets of smiles, grins and out-loud laughs as she dashed here and there from oak to maple, capturing first one leaf and declaring it to be the most marvelous red she'd ever seen, then holding another high while praising its bold pink or yellow. "Even the speckled ones are beautiful!" She sang thrusting a ragged faded yellow and brown leaf on Grandpop's lap. "See how all the colors mix?" She pointed to the torn leaf and peered into his eyes as if insisting he agree. He leaned down, hugged her. I saw the wet in his eyes, felt mine burn.

Lisa wrestled free, as she is wont to do when hugged, fell back to the ground rolling in the leaves and giggling, grabbing great handfuls of color and tossing them high. "They even smell beautiful!"

Suddenly she stopped, sprang to her feet and pointed to the mountain. "See all the colors there? I wish they could always be those colors. Isn't it just beautiful? Why must they ever change?" She ran and dove into Grandpop's lap and hugged him. "I wish this day would never need to change too."

Grandpop brushed her hair from her eyes, kissed her forehead, and methodically studied the torn, battered, faded leaf he still held in his weathered hand. "Well little lady, I reckon the leaves change once a year just to put on this grand show for us. If they were this spectacular every day we might not remember to take notice. We might forget their beautiful show. This way you see we never fail to recognize all the effort they go to just for us. I suppose in life it takes a bunch of what some folks call ordinary to make the very special, extraordinary."

"Well, I like shiny green leaves too." Lisa carefully pressed out a few multicolored leaves on Grandpop's thigh. "I'm keeping these so I can always remember our very special day and when I get sad, they can remind me to be happy."

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry 

 This is the Twelfth in my series of Grandpop stories. I began writing about Grandpop, June 27, 2013, with what at the time I imagined what would be a standalone short story, "Perhaps I've Just Lived Too Long." You can read that story (and find links to go on) (HERE)   Folks said they enjoy visiting with Grandpop, so I wrote more. Frankly, I enjoy him too.

Let Your Horse Help You See The Moment

Howdy Folks,
 

During these past few weeks of what I like to call a throwback winter, I often chuckle at folks posting countdowns to the first day of Spring, and friends calling to assure me they've had enough of this cold Winter. Soon enough it'll be Spring, and I do love the budding leaves, wildflowers and Spring songs of courting birds. And glorious Spring rides through the woods. But we've got some mighty fine Winter left to enjoy, too. I asked Kessy about longing for Spring, she took a deep breath, and let go a sigh, then rubbed her head against me.

On the heels of Spring comes Summer, the heat, the horseflies, ticks and fleas. The yard and garden work and play. Folks will then be posting about the heat, the horseflies, fleas and ticks, and counting down to Fall. I asked Kessy how she feels about Summer. She took a deep breath, let go a sigh, took a bite of hay and gazed out over the snow covered forest floor. Then rubbed her head on my arm.

Fall will come, leaves will change, the forest will look spectacular. Days will shorten, the moon hang larger in the sky, and gardens will show signs of wear. I asked Kessy what she thought of Autumn. She took a deep breath, looked out at the snow, then rubbed her head on my shoulder.

Of course as Fall wears on the days not only get shorter, but colder too. Mostly the horseflies, misquotes and ticks go their way, away from us, hiding from the cold about to embrace us. Then Winter pays us a visit, bringing along his friends, cold, snow, ice and Mr. Blustery Wind. Folks start longing for Spring, talking and writing how they're ready to be finished with Old Man Winter. It seems whatever season we're in, folks long for the next one, living months ahead of themselves, instead of enjoying the moment they're in. I asked Kessy how she felt about Winter, she took a bite of hay and munched away. Then she rubbed her head on my shoulder.

Kessy and me, enjoyin' a moment.

I like to write about our weather, too. In fact I have lots of fun with it, and love sharing the moment and descriptions with our Coffee Clutch and Facebook friends. I enjoy each season we're in, from the high heat of Summer, to the low cold of Winter. I cherish each moment, live in it. Find the beauty and fun in it. Kessy and other horses taught me that. When you get anxious, worried or frustrated, let your horse help you see the moment. Let her rub off on you.

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

Our First Frost

Last night's shimmering black sky, sparkling stars and glowing moon warned of a chilly fall morning coming, and it seems that foretelling was indeed correct. A quick glance at the thermometer this morning verified the frosty temp to be thirty six. It's long been my habit to check the temp as one of my first duties each morning and report to Ravishin' Robbie, who this morning called out, "Burrr" and pulled the blanket over her head. I dug out my insulated coveralls and gloves.

Thermos filled with piping hot Folgers, and all bundled up I headed to the barn for "Coffee With Kessy" and the critters.

As is his habit, Saturday greeted me on the back porch bouncing, tail wagging and begging for hugs. The spider webs on the lawn looked like so many tiny tents covered in a fine lacy ice. Scarlet leaves lightly dusted with white frosting smiled down on us from the tall maple by the barn. Kessy's breath streamed from her nostrils in friendly dragon fashion as she urged me to hurry with her breakfast and hay. The chickens, who are normally scattered far and wide, huddled just outside the barn waiting for me to get their scratch corn, some even waited at the feeding station. I reckon they needed some fuel to warm up.

Sure in a month or so thirty six will feel plenty warm, but this morning it felt mighty cool. I settled into my chair, poured a steaming cup from the thermos, and as I do each morning at this time, looked skyward, between the big oak's branches, and thanked God for a beautiful morning. I do that each day, hot cold, rainy or drought, because, frankly, each morning is beautiful. Especially from the vantage point of the barn.

Most of the chickens wandered into the barn, some scratched around near Kessy looking for hay seeds, while others huddled under the picnic table. The roosters sat on the ledge and commenced the Crow Boy's Choir. Tigger curled in a tight ball in my lap, and Saturday dug a nest in the straw in Kessy's corner. I remember last winter too, he'd abandon his post next to my chair for his nest in the straw on chilly mornings. Miss Kitty never left the house this morning. Frosty breath drifted up from the hay as Kessy munched and chomped.

By the time Coffee Clutch ended a half our later it had warmed all the way up to forty degrees. The chickens had scattered mostly out of sight on their search and devour mission. Tigger still curled tight on my lap. Saturday had burrowed deeper into his nest. Kessy continued to munch hay.

Have a perfect day, stay warm & God Bless!

Gardens of Fall

Ravishin' Robbie's gardens have donned their fall colors and decorations. The vegetable garden has been stripped of its spent tomato, bean and squash plants. The boarders are in full color though as the Marigolds planted there to help deter insects quickly expanded to capture the new found space and burst forth with a thick mat of orange. Morning glory and Brown Eyed Susan vines cover the corner posts in thick lush greenery, liberally decorated with blue and yellow flowers.

The plants of Robbie's herb garden, or as we called it in PA, the Kitchen Garden, are tall, dense and mostly flowerless. The Basil looks like a small hedge with leaves of shiny green, and being just a foot off the front porch, its sweet smell drifts in to greet us each time we open our front door. The Sage having weeks ago lost its last delicate scarlet red flower stands as a stately bush waist high and thick as a bramble. Several varieties of Tyme have spread out to carpet the floor with dainty leaves and a spattering of  tiny white flowers. The Oregano plants have fallen and began pushing up shoots creating artwork that looks like so much driftwood on the beach.

Mums of many colors, orange, white, russet and red are in their glory now and crowd the flowerbeds that earlier were packed tight with a dozen different summer flowers. Mixed in between the Mums are a few struggling, but gracious blue and pink Cosmos, the last of the deep red Love Lies Bleeding and a few brilliant Daisies.

The Zinnias, perhaps my favorite garden flower, have had a rebirth in the cooler weather and are celebrating with flowers galore. Whether Robbie had strategically planted the Zinnias in locations to define, accent and glorify the flowerbeds, or they had migrated on their own, the patches of Zinnias exploding in red, blue, yellow, orange and pink bring broad smiles like so many exploding fireworks at the county fair.

Take a few moments today to stroll through your gardens of fall and enjoy their gifts.

Kessy and I are heading out to explore a few wild fall gardens. You all have a wonderful day and God Bless ~ Dutch