Whether it’s a holiday, weekend, or unexpected day-trip, I love going to my family home. It’s my favorite place of retreat and is filled with my oldest and dearest friends (my family.) Though this is always true, something calls to me more sweetly in the Fall. Everything about it becomes more beautiful when the crisper air moves in, and it all starts with the drive.
Though I appreciate the straightforwardness and higher speeds the interstate offers, I gladly relinquish these conveniences to exit onto the rural roads that lead me home. I tolerate the slower pace and various farm smells for the joy of knowing I’m in the homestretch. Inevitably, a smile takes over my face as I leave civilization behind.
It’s not long until I make my final descent into the serene valley where a honey-colored cabin filled with warmth and love awaits. I wave to the farm on the right before I drop down my favorite hill. There’s something so enchanting about this hill, almost other-worldly. The narrow road shoots downward through tall, lush trees filled with strength and wisdom that only trees can attain. They reach out towards the aged pavement and form a canopy. Some may find the outstretched limbs menacing, but I see them as watchful and protective. I find solace in being surrounded by them. After a short, beautiful while, the arboreal covering wanes and it’s back to forest-framed pastures.
Soon enough, I pull into my parents’ driveway off of a dusty dirt road and all at once, everything within me exhales. I love when it’s especially chilly and my dad has the woodstove fired up. The smoky smells of oak, birch, and maple fill my nostrils as these retired trees lend themselves to heating the house. The sounds of the city are but a memory. Instead, songbirds fill the skies and the perfect Fall breezes ignite an exuberant fanfare of drying leaves as if to welcome me home. Everything is quieter here.
Walking the steps, I am greeted by a large and wonderfully peculiar amber-colored cat. His fluff and frame have already begun to thicken to prepare for Winter’s cold. His bushy, pear-shaped body makes him irresistible as he flops to the porch floor with a loud “thud” in anticipation of some affection. After kneading his rotund belly like dough for a while, he remembers he’s supposed to be aloof and wanders off. He’ll find his way back in the wee morning hours, though, to fall asleep on the Power Rangers pillow he’s claimed as his own.
Now, one would think that, upon going inside, my first task would be to hug my parents. That is my intention, but it’s very difficult when a moppish little pooch runs at me like a blur. It’s as if his tiny body is too small for the amount of love he feels as he leaps into my arms. My heart goes to mush just thinking about it. I couldn’t ask for a better welcome wagon. With him contently in my arms, I am then free to embrace my parents and settle into the place I love the most.
These are the images that fill my mind as temperatures fall and the world around me turns from green to gold. It’s incredibly sentimental, I know, but then again…so am I. Happy Fall everyone.
Finding Wonderment 