A Grand Soft Day

A steady rain is falling on the Chicken Ranch. As my Scottish ancestors would say “ Tis a grond sooft dee.” It is a cold rain that causes me to raise my collar on my duster, and give thanks for a wide brim of my Stetson. The pitter-patter of raindrops can be heard as they cascade leaf to leaf from the top to the bottom of the trees. The looser leaves give under the weight of the wetness, and surf the wind in an aerobatic dance to the ground below. The tic-tic of leaves landing in the grass, grows more insistent as the rain continues to seep from the sky. The air holds the distinct fall perfume of decaying leaves and autumn rain. The gentle breeze carries the damp chill of seasonal change.

The nights are often cold now, and Jack Frost has visited more than once. I find that the low tempered evenings are refreshing to me. I like to walk out on the back porch and respire the freshness of the autumn air. With my hands around my coffee cup for warmth, and my wool hat on my head, it is the non bearded parts of my face that first feels the chill. My nostrils absorb the not unpleasant burn of the cold night air. These are fireplace and wood stove nights, and they are welcomed by me.

The smoke rises from the chimney and floats low  as it drifts on the wind. The West wind is the wind of autumn. Some Cherokee tribes believe that the earth was created in autumn, and celebrate the new year each year with a harvest feast of corn, beans, pumpkin and more. It begins at the first autumn moon. The ceremony of Going To The Water is performed during this time. The men and women who keep the ‘old ways’ place themselves in a lake or stream at sunrise, and dip 7 times in a purification ritual to rid themselves of bad spirits from the past year. The fall represents a rest; before a new beginning comes with the East wind in the spring.

As this days rain falls upon us, I marvel at the trees that have cloaked us with many colors. Even on a gray sunless day, the red, yellow, orange, and gold that have been splashed upon the trees, presents a canvas of fall beauty. The yard and garden area is a carpet of foliage of varying hue, as wind and rain shower the ground in a multi colored confetti.

The lane beside the barn is glistening black in the few places where the asphalt shines through the blanket of moisture heavy maple and hackberry leaves. The upturned leaves that I leave behind as I trod this path, are soon covered with a new contribution from the surrounding tree line. I remove my hat from time to time and dislodge a few leaves that have come along for the ride on the brim.

As I head back to the house, I think that it is indeed a grand soft day. A moisture laden day of kaleidoscope views, of soggy walks, and winds of change. The fall season is full upon us here at the Chicken Ranch, and I am soaking up every minute of it.