September Love (warning, picture heavy)

I think I'm beating a dead horse now when I say that I love fall. I'm sure I've now mentioned it a million and one times, but, just in case the message didn't come in very clear, let me say it again. I love fall. I will never, ever, as long as I live, ever be able to live in a place that doesn't properly experience all four seasons, because then I will automatically be cheated out of (or very nearly cheated out of) my favorite of the four: fall. I love watching the leaves change color. I love hearing the Canada Geese honk as they migrate south for the winter. I love seeing the squirrels busily gathering their winter stores, and I love seeing the change in the birds at my feeder. But I especially love the return of the rain, the chill to the air, and the way the landscape changes dramatically before me.

So, naturally, one of the first things I was going to do once released from bed rest, was to rush out to one of my favorite local trails to take in the beauty of nature. Normally, my step-daughter would have been in school today, and it would have just been my son and I going for our walk. But since the strike is still going on, I had to bring her. This may sound a bit like grumbling, and that's because it is. Morgan is a girly-girl. And a girly-girl to the extreme. She doesn't really care for getting dirty, being out in nature, or for the existence of other animals beyond the cute cats and dogs she likes. So, when I say we're going on a walk, the usual response is a long, high-pitched whine. And it generally doesn't end until we get back home.

However, I braved the whine. I braved the drizzle that was coming down, and Andrew and I excitedly hit the trail, with Morgan in tow, dragging her feet behind her. She actually did smile and run and enjoy herself a bit, but everytime I thought I'd she'd relaxed and was ready to have a good time, she'd catch herself being pleasant, and clam back up. Oh well, can't wit 'em all...

This walk was everything that I could have wanted... fresh air, a light rain that was just enough to keep things cool, leaves crunching under my feet as I walked, bird calls and songs, the sound of the creek running gently beside us, and as we approached the river, the familiar roar and rush of it, and of course, my son, yelling that there were spooky monsters around every corner (because that's what he does). 

How do you celebrate the changing seasons? Does a nature walk revive you as it does me? 


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