In our bedroom, there is a window that is on my side of the bed, only feet from me when I'm lying there waiting for sleep to claim me. Last night--and fortunately many previous ones as well--I drifted off to sleep with that window open. The sounds of the night were my lullaby, the scent of the mountains a balm, and the cool nightly breeze a light touch on my face. These things elements made for an easy and comforting time of falling asleep. And this morning I awoke to the first day of autumn. The day was heralded in with a cool sunny morning, and while it may have gotten quite warm inside my house, outside it was a lovely precursor to what the rest of this season will bring.
I celebrated by taking a solitary hike in the mountains of Montreat. I felt a little bad for not bringing Cael along, but as his is overdue on his flea medication I decided not to risk it. Truth be told, it was nice to be alone with the mountains. I chose a new trail, mostly because the normal one up Lookout already had a mass of cars parked at the bottom which most likely meant Greybeard Trail did too, and I frankly didn't want to have to deal with people. So I drove to the very top of Appalachian Way in hopes that I would find a trailhead up there. Luckily, I did. So I took a trail unknown to me today, I had no expectations--though hopes of a view are always with me on such hikes--I simply embarked on a new path and willed that it take me somewhere beautiful. If you know anything about Montreat, you'll know that virtually any trail in the cove will take you somewhere beautiful, and this one was no exception. The beginning was rather arduous and very steeply uphill, but I persevered and rested when I needed to, and was eventually rewarded with a meandering trail that was long, but not overtiring. I had to turn around eventually when I came across a hovel of a house that, while my imagination went in different directions both terrifying and exciting, I was convinced that I had gone far enough and should turn back. On the way back though I was able to harvest some beautifully intact acorns. As I collected them I saw many that were crushed or separated from their little brown caps, and I was reminded of when I was young and would go out looking for acorn tops, just the tops mind you, because my mother told me that they were fairy dishes, and that the fairies were ever appreciative of people who found them the best ones to use for their feasts. I would spend hours collecting them, only the best for the fairies, and then I would put them under my pillow at night and in the morning the fairies would have left me a token of their appreciation in their place--usually a quarter or other small coin--but I reveled in the fact that I, a mere mortal, was providing dishes for the feasts of those magical little creatures. Thank you, Mum, for being such a wonderful advocate of imagination and folklore--I can only hope to be as wonderful a mother as you are to me to my own children.So autumn, here we go again, please do not desist in your ever-present nudging of my mind to compose with words how enthralling I always find your nature, and how beautifully you inspire my creativity to praise your manner and Maker.
