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When Fall Beauty Prompts Perpetual Poetry

 

It’s no coincidence that my hubster and I refer to the month of October as the month o’ love. We love everything about it! We were even married on the side of a mountain during the month of October (Pretty Place, Greenville SC).

Every open weekend during the month we plan a getaway. Sometimes it’s an overnight stay but often it’s day trips. One of my favorite day-trip destinations is Carl Sandburg’s home, perched atop a hill in Flat Rock, NC.

This past weekend we took a hike around the front lake, the one that sits at the bottom of the hill, below his home. The crimson-threaded leaves embraced the lake as if they were saying a final farewell, at least for now.

Could Carl Sandburg have been sitting on his front stoop, observing the same breathtaking views, as he penned Autumn Movement?

(It was a foggy morning but if you look carefully you can see Connemara at the top of the hill.)

Autumn Movement,
by Carl Sandburg

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

 

 

 

What will you miss the most with the passing of Fall? 

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…
Ecclesiastes 3:1

 

The Best Gift Was No Surprise At All

Gifts of all types abounded during our long weekend getaway:

  • Time with the hubster. We enjoy each others company even more twenty-two years later.
  • The cabin. Shiny hardwood floors, bright, clean, quiet, and equipped with a flip-switch fireplace, an oversize comfy chair, and the perfect reading lamp (yes, this is an important detail!)
  • The back porch. Views of a well-grazed pasture, kaleidoscopic-colored leaves, and a pure white peacock that made this 50 year-old heart skip a beat when it flew off the back roof (Did I mention I was standing directly beneath the roof at the time?)
  • Newly discovered yummy places to eat. Visiting the Flat Rock or Hendersonville area? These two places are a must: Mean Mr. Mustard’s Cafe (BEST grits ever!) and Flat Rock Village Bakery (fresh pizza made with fresh herbs and sauces).
  • Quiet time. Our yearly ritual on this particular getaway is to spend a half day to ourselves. Brian usually heads up to Asheville to check out vinyl record collections while I stay at the cabin soaking in the scenery via pen and paper.

This year, because of the big 5-0, my anniversary/birthday gift from Brian is a dining room makeover. While antique shopping on Friday, I ran across the “perfect” corner cabinet at Architectural Warehouse in Tryon. Well, perfect in every sense of the word — except financially. It would’ve eaten up the entire budget for the room, so we headed back up the mountain to settle in for the night. I was disappointed but realistic. The Craig’s List search continued.

The next morning, however, when we returned home, I walked through the front door to find this sitting in the corner of my dining room:

 

Instead of heading to Asheville Saturday morning (as he’d said), Brian drove in the opposite direction, purchased my cabinet, and delivered it to our home almost an hour away, making it back to Flat Rock in time for our anniversary dinner.

The gift itself was the best surprise ever — but the fact that Brian would go to that much trouble and give up his fun day for me came as no surprise at all. He is truly the kindest and most selfless person I know—just one of a trillion+ reasons why I am still head-over-heels with this man twenty-two years later. Thank you, honey!

Also, a tremendous thanks to those of you who called, emailed, texted, sent cards, and wished me a “Happy Birthday!” via Facebook. You have no idea how much your thoughtfulness meant to me. More importantly, how much you mean to me.

 

“I thank my God every time I remember you.” Philippians 1:3

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