I love where we live.
I think Ive just experienced the most beautiful fall of my 28 years of life.
It’s technically still fall, but most of the beautiful leaves have found there way to the forest floor.
When the leaves flutter to the ground and land they sound like someone stepping through the woods. On a still moonlit night around the camp fire with Sam, I was convinced bears and cougars (popular to the area) were sneaking up on us from all directions;)
The children and I have never experienced leaves like the leaves of the the Cariboo. The mountains that push up from the river are painted yellow. The streets slide their way through the yellow, and the bright green grass on the sides of the road look like some one painted borders to hold all that crazy yellow in.
The kids build leaf towers the size of their bodies in 5 mins because its a leaf sea out here. Right now they are out in the yard making leaf-less trails to bike around in.
The falling of all the leaves opened up a new world to us. Trails through our woods we never knew existed, hidden by the dense wood, have come to view. The leaves fall on to their paths lighting the way with yellow. We discovered one such path snaking from our back yard near the tree fort.
Tree limbs have fallen over the path, mushrooms the size of heads have popped up, and sometimes deer have ran across it. All this making it a game trying to discover just where the path goes, and where it is when we can’t see it anymore.
We spotted pink ribbons tied to trees, the remains of a large animal, abandoned nests, a tree stand for a hunter, and fallen fence posts tangled in barbed wire.
I had Silas, my three month old, bobbing in front of me in his carrier, and a musical band following behind as I trail blazed. Snapping twigs, moving branches.
The band was my 3 other children. They had a train whistle, a harmonica, and a bamboo whistle. My happy Band of Bear Scare-rs;)
I wondered if maybe the neighbors thought their were fairies in the woods.
Fall also brings Homeschooling, and Hunting.
The other night after a long hard day of grumpy children. I finished the dishes and took my fussing baby for a walk in the stroller. Leaving the others with their Dad, I ran from the house like it was nipping at my heals.
The fresh damp fall air and silence ministered to my soul. It grew dark fast and I found myself winding my way back to our street.
I came upon our house in the dusk, looking down at it from our long gravel drive.
OUR house. Our very own.
The lights shone yellow out the windows. From the playroom, living-room, the kitchen, and the little cozy rooms upstairs.
I took the stroller around to the back of the house.
I could see our happy kitchen with so many stools and chairs, plastic colored cups lined up on the table. My hard working husband on the computer with music on.
I pushed on to the next window; looking in on the living room.
I could see Jonas and Elise sharing Jonas’ desk. They were up on their knees leaning over and coloring.
I went to the next window, and there was Sammy climbing around under the desk finding his felt. They were all laughing about something and their smiling faces shone out to me in the dark.
My heart swelled.
It was like looking in on my life. On all my blessings.
My frustrations and grumblings fizzed out like spit on a flame. And thankfulness rushed in like a flood.
God seemed closer. His heart and kindness more real.
Then I touched the picture by banging on the glass and growling like a bear.
Squeals of laughter followed me as I hid and banged on the next pane.
Finally I scooped up my quite little bundle and entered the glow of the house. Closing the door behind me I saw my life
from a different light.
It’s Fall .
Here at our home in Quesnel.