|Autumn at Muddy Run|
Thoughts of autumn engage my senses as I think about my favorite apple festival that takes place on the first Saturday in October, each year in Darlington, Md. Vendors line the small town’s streets with canopies, tents and farm wagons bulging with baskets of apples of every color and variety and heavy laden tables filled with pies and dumplings. The air is filled with the intoxicating fragrance of cinnamon, caramel sauce and kettle corn. Everywhere you look is an explosion of color with lavender asters and mums of white, yellow, purple, rusty orange and my
personal favorite, burgundy, providing a sea of color for the throng of festival goers to wade through as they pick out the perfect ones to take home . Many playful scarecrows are created that day as families have fun stuffing plaid flannels shirts and old worn out blue jeans to make whimsical characters to decorate their front porches along with their pumpkins, hay bales and colorful Indian corn.
The fall season beckons campers to the outdoors to enjoy the last of the favorable weather. They are wooed by the joys of crackling campfires, cooking outside and hikes on rugged trails, strewn with noisy, crispy leaves. I can almost smell the bacon and camp-stove coffee when I close my eyes.
Now is the season when we will see deer more frequently, since the monstrous combines have recently harvested the cornfields, exposing their secret hiding places. Of course, this also means we will notice camo-clad hunters as they enter and exit wooded areas at dusk and dawn in pursuit of meat for their tables.
Scott Shephard Photogra
Autumn conjures thoughts of honking, south bound, flocks of geese in v-formation under a perfect deep blue canopy with billowy, cotton-like white clouds. I think of long lines of yellow school buses, football games, homecoming dances and chilly days that encourage me to dig out my favorite, warm, comfy sweaters and cozy blankets and throws. In my imagination I can smell the fragrance of crayons, earthy leaves, wood smoke and simmering pots of soup.
|Autumn sunset view from my front porch|
The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy. Psalm 65:8