Writers Post: Blog Hop #15
Picture and a word: Changes
The end of summer. The end of the overheated, bug riddled, can’t take enough clothes off to get cooled down time of year. Thankfully! Sweat shirts shrugged on over shorts and flip-flops. The weather is perfect.
We walked hand-in-hand down the lane. The fall colors breath taking. My favorite time of the color change is when there are still trees with plenty of green to accentuate the colors. The gold of the poplar and birch trees, the reds and oranges of the maples, the burnt orange of the oaks before they turn golden brown. I enjoy the ground foliage color changes also.
I think the ferns curling back into themselves and turning a dusky brown against the backdrop of a stand of colorful sumac can be one of the most calming scenes a person can visually take in. The paper dollars are finally distinct against a colorful backdrop. The lantern plant shows off it’s wonderful orange lantern alongside the wild red wintergreen berries. A delight to the senses! And the smell is pure heaven!
We walked to the wooden foot bridge, reveling in the fall views of the lake. There has been a footbridge across the channel between the two lakes for as long as I can remember. The first time I saw “the bridge”, I was probably around six or seven years old. The first bridge was something movies are made around. The rungs were not planks, they were logs. The logs didn’t fit neatly together, there were actual gaps that a seven year old had to leap across. (the water below was a good eight feet down, and a couple of feet deep) There was a rope railing to grab onto that was incredibly grubby and frayed. The whole bridge had a list to it off to the north. As though the winds had blown the water against the lower half, knocking it’s legs out from under it. That bridge has been replaced, more than once. Over the years, I have been involved in the bridge repair and rebuild. (oh yeah, and the destruction by virtue of too many names having been carved into the planks leaving them weakened and distressed)
We sought some quiet time. Some time to reflect on the events of our lives. Time to reflect on where we had been, within our relationship, and where we were heading. We had a house full of friends and family for this “get away” weekend. We needed some laughter and hugs. Some time to visit with family who live scattered across the state. Some time to relive past stories and create new memories. We sat on the bridge and watched the minnows race back and forth beneath us. They dart back and forth staying in the shallows in massive schools, hoping for shelter from the large fish, turtles and birds patrolling the waters. We drink in the colors as they reflect off the water, in sharp contrast to the blue sky reflecting on the azure waters. We would begin the “clean up” party when we returned. The kids, I use that term extremely loosely, were gathering up all the gardening tools we would need; rakes, leaf blowers, tarp for moving the piles of leaves, and a lighter to ignite the leaves….too late in the season for marshmallows and s’mores….
Change happens. As much as we hate to admit it, as much as we typically fight to avoid acknowledging it, change happens every day. We grow older, and not necessarily wiser. The world “ripens” just a little. We watch the kids bring in the raft. We watch the “kids” dismantle the dock and haul it piece by piece onto the shore for winter storage. We smirk at one another…nee – ner, nee – ner…we slipped away and didn’t have to wade in the cold water!!! We cat-call to the kids. Watch your step! They see us and begin waving and gesturing. We pull up our legs from dangling where we sat, over the side of the bridge and turn to look at the path that brought us to where we now stood. Contemplation. Change….