Arkie John
Active member
How is it that this would be my favorite time of year? Only recently has it attained that status. When I was younger, Spring was always my favorite. I stir my coffee (just a little frutose, please) and drift back to the times that made it all happen. There isn't any one thing I can put my finger on, but a multitude of events, I suppose. I've written of most of those, but at 57 years old, it has begun to take on new meaning. Nature, in general, has been in my blood for a long, long time. But, it's WAY deeper than that. You see, each year becomes more important...and I am reminded of it more often at this time than at any other time of the year.
The weather here is still great, but the bite of fall is in the morning time air now. The days are getting shorter and as the first leaves begin their transition with each gust, some let go. Last night I looked into the piercing darkness and wondered what would come of this season. Oh yeah, I would love to kill a huge buck and take a couple more gobblers before the end of the year. But I really wondered how I might grow as a daddy and a husband, brother and granddaddy during this time.
You see, it is at THIS time of year that I feel closest to my earthly father, and as I spend more and more time in the out-of-doors, I'm increasingly more aware of my heavenly father. As the building is evidence of the builder, and the painting evidence of the painter, then creation, being infinitely more complex than buildings and paintings, plainly shows me and becomes evidence of, yes, the Creator.
I've taken some time off--first leave since June a year ago--just to take some time to reach back into where I've been, so that I can see where I'm goin'. Does that make sense to anyone out there but me? We all have our special times and places. Royal has his Roscommon, Wayne has his remote and mysterious mountains and lost beaches. Butch has his private waterfall on Lake Cathrine. Fred has his beautiful horses...and I...well, I have my October's Eve and all that it represents.
I am so thankful that I can relate to the smell of a hickory fire, who's smoke drifts, ever-so-slowly hanging low in the valley. The crisp mornings call my name and I know why, once I am out there, just watching the first hint of a grey sky preceeding what will be another spectacular sunrise. "How many more of these will I have privilege to see," I think. Well, let's see. (My mind wanders) If I live till I'm 80, I'll have about 1,164, give or take one or two. Geeesh~ That's under 1,200!!! These days, 1,200 of ANYTHING ain't much. I can't waste even ONE!
Then again, I might not even have 12 left. None of us really know, do we? Each year, as strands geese make their way, following their intuitive urges to the south, I am reminded of the brevity of life. Little kids satisfy their curiosity and play in the fire of burning leaves and old men pay homage to another year gone by, looking skyward, as those geese make their way. Why is it that every time I hear their noisy flight, I automatically look up, searching, searching? It's just who I am. Thanks, Dad and Mom.
But this is what I am pledged to to do, regardless of the time I have left. I will make the most of each passing day no matter where God places me or in whatever circumstances I am found . I never want to miss another sunrise or my daily calling, until it is my time to go.
So, it's not about how many deer or turkeys I've got in the freezer at the end of the season. It's about loving my Lord, my family and my fellow man enough to do all I can to be all that I can possibly be to them, in that order...each...passing...day.
October's eve: What a great time of year! A time to recollect, to recommit..a time to reconsider and most of all--a time to ACT. Dare I challenge you to ask, "What will come of this season?" I am thankful for each October's Eve, so that I might be reminded of the important things.
Friends, the air's gettin' a bit nippish right about now, even with that hot coffee. Now, just where did I put that old sweater?
Thanks for comin' along. <><
Arkie John
(this is the one I promised you, Fred
)
The weather here is still great, but the bite of fall is in the morning time air now. The days are getting shorter and as the first leaves begin their transition with each gust, some let go. Last night I looked into the piercing darkness and wondered what would come of this season. Oh yeah, I would love to kill a huge buck and take a couple more gobblers before the end of the year. But I really wondered how I might grow as a daddy and a husband, brother and granddaddy during this time.
You see, it is at THIS time of year that I feel closest to my earthly father, and as I spend more and more time in the out-of-doors, I'm increasingly more aware of my heavenly father. As the building is evidence of the builder, and the painting evidence of the painter, then creation, being infinitely more complex than buildings and paintings, plainly shows me and becomes evidence of, yes, the Creator.
I've taken some time off--first leave since June a year ago--just to take some time to reach back into where I've been, so that I can see where I'm goin'. Does that make sense to anyone out there but me? We all have our special times and places. Royal has his Roscommon, Wayne has his remote and mysterious mountains and lost beaches. Butch has his private waterfall on Lake Cathrine. Fred has his beautiful horses...and I...well, I have my October's Eve and all that it represents.
I am so thankful that I can relate to the smell of a hickory fire, who's smoke drifts, ever-so-slowly hanging low in the valley. The crisp mornings call my name and I know why, once I am out there, just watching the first hint of a grey sky preceeding what will be another spectacular sunrise. "How many more of these will I have privilege to see," I think. Well, let's see. (My mind wanders) If I live till I'm 80, I'll have about 1,164, give or take one or two. Geeesh~ That's under 1,200!!! These days, 1,200 of ANYTHING ain't much. I can't waste even ONE!
Then again, I might not even have 12 left. None of us really know, do we? Each year, as strands geese make their way, following their intuitive urges to the south, I am reminded of the brevity of life. Little kids satisfy their curiosity and play in the fire of burning leaves and old men pay homage to another year gone by, looking skyward, as those geese make their way. Why is it that every time I hear their noisy flight, I automatically look up, searching, searching? It's just who I am. Thanks, Dad and Mom.
But this is what I am pledged to to do, regardless of the time I have left. I will make the most of each passing day no matter where God places me or in whatever circumstances I am found . I never want to miss another sunrise or my daily calling, until it is my time to go.
So, it's not about how many deer or turkeys I've got in the freezer at the end of the season. It's about loving my Lord, my family and my fellow man enough to do all I can to be all that I can possibly be to them, in that order...each...passing...day.
October's eve: What a great time of year! A time to recollect, to recommit..a time to reconsider and most of all--a time to ACT. Dare I challenge you to ask, "What will come of this season?" I am thankful for each October's Eve, so that I might be reminded of the important things.
Friends, the air's gettin' a bit nippish right about now, even with that hot coffee. Now, just where did I put that old sweater?
Thanks for comin' along. <><
Arkie John
(this is the one I promised you, Fred