Autumn on repeat
I am tempted to begin every blog post, column, and journal entry these days with the words, “It was another beautiful day here in Minnesota.”
I just can’t help it. It was another beautiful day here in Minnesota. The trees burn like they’ve been lit from within: red, yellow, orange. The air is filled with leaves, like colorful, oversized snowflakes.
These are days where it feels like sin to stay inside. You’re wasting it, you’re wasting it, the wind tells me, blowing in through the back door.
So we go outside and plant golden raspberries and Northstar blueberries and lilac bushes. We go to as many apple orchards as we can squeeze into our schedule. We take long walks around Wilmes Lake. The woods change every day.
There are signs of impending winter to be sure. The neighbors are having their house re-roofed. All the roads are getting a fresh coat of asphalt so they can withstand the salt and cinder of the colder months. We received a notice in the mail assuring us that if our mailbox gets hit by a snowplow, the city will replace it for free. These are things of impending importance, obviously.
So these autumn days tease us and allow me to fall completely in love with the northern country. In the back of my mind I feel like Noah before the flood, sealing my ark and filling it with down coats and jars of tomatoes, watching the sky for signs of that first snowflake.
But for now I will store up in my soul the taste and smell and feel of autumn: cool wind, soft grass, baked apples, piles of crunchy leaves, and a glittering lake that doesn’t know what’s coming.