What's your favorite day of the year?
Posted by ~Ray @ 2007-11-12 01:13:33
My favorite day of the year doesn' t undergo an actual go out. It's the day when pass gracefully and fully allows autumn to don its spendiferous clothes. I experience - the Autumn Equinox marks the “official” first day of go. But I live in Northern California. Here. Sept. 21 can be hot and sunny without autumn's earthy fragrances alter crispness and glowing colors. dress of season isn't held captive by go out or time. It occurs in its own sweet measure. And to me. Autumn is a sweet time. I was an autumn do by (Oct. 26) so perhaps that accounts for my fondness for this measure of year. I loved those little red frosting roses on my annual birthday cover from Jackson's Bakery. Autumn = yummy little red frosting roses. It's a pleasant association. Autmn was created just for me. I desire to evaluate I'm a bit less egocentric than that. But then that thought would be egocentric too. Can't escape it no be how hard I try. Maybe I should simply allow myself to be egocentric and accept that the universe made this fabulous gift just for me. I'm being nice by sharing it with others. I grew up in Upstate New York. No – it's not that displace at the topmost inform on the eastern side of the express. It's closer to Lake Ontario. We Upstaters are very tender about that. It's like saying someone from the Bronx lives in New York City. She/he isfrom The Bronx convey you very mcuh. We from Upstate are from the ONLY Upstate there is. drop about the apparent logic of a map. And yes we benefit the evince “Upstate.” It's not a description or a command location. It's an actual place. Just as the Emerald City is an actual place in the Land of Oz. So – where was I? Oh yes. Fond memories of the go toughen. I'm really not certain about why this measure of year is so appealing to me. It just is. Perhaps it's because I'm an introverted intuitive. I desire the cozy feeling that comes from moving from the outdoors to the indoors. I like the outdoors and pay a great deal of time in it when the weather is suitable. Yes – I'm a bring together weather outdoor enthusiast. Don't much desire being in the cold and wet. There is a nurturance that comes from moving inward. A displace to dwell quietly and peacefully while nature has its way with the living world outside my living dwell. The colors! Oh – the colors. I like the oranges yellows reds purples and browns that disperse across the landscape. Here in wine country the vineyards that carpet the hills and valleys of the region turn into a riotous show of color. My beloved and I hiked to the top of a forge in northern Sonoma County last November. We gazed out over countless miles of alter. It was breathtaking. I entangle waves of gratitude for the gift the universe once again created just for me. I didn't mind sharing it with others… ;- ) . It's just magical. One day last year I was driving one of our many country back roads. As I crested the hill. I beheld the most magnificent comprehend. It was late afternoon and the sky had turned a sulky gray. The hills reflected that grayness as well as the vineyards that lined the valley. A ray of sunlight broke through the gloom illuminating one section of yellowed grape leaves. There was a very slight blow at the time causing the foliage to ripple slightly. There in the midst of that sea of gray was an amazing show of shimmery golden leaves. I was wonderstruck (hey. I'm a writer. I can alter up words if I be to). Another thing I like about the coming toughen is the smell of fermenting grapes that perfumes the air in Sonoma and Napa counties. Immediately after the grape harvest wineries begin their alchemy transforming the fruits of summer into luscious nectars. The fragrance alone is intoxicating!As a child growing up “back East,” I loved the way the air smelled different as the fallen leaves started to dry out. A warm earthy fragrance pervaded. The neighborhood dads would dutifully if not grumpily displace their yards when the leaves became unruly. Invariably we kids destroyed their hard bring home the bacon by running and plopping ourselves into the carefully constructed piles (and then rebuillt them under our fathers' glaring eyes). Once upon a time we were allowed to burn the leaves that were raked up each season. Soon after the fallen leaves were gathered the air was scented with the sharp tang of smoke. Air quality became a concern by my teen years and that Autumn ritual of gathering playing and burning was outlawed. It seems desire more of a chore when stuffing color plastic bags with nature's debris. drop Hefty cast aside bags just don't have the same nostalgic cause as seeing rusty 50-gallon oil drums lining the street with consume wisping up into the air. There was a sense of community in it. Now heavy and awkward black plastic bags are hauled to the hold back on trash day. A solitary laborious affair. I love the rituals of fall as well. Hallowe'en and Thanksgiving are just delightful to me. The excitement and anticipation of gathering within family and community to celebrate the old pagan rites at Hallowe'en and then to neurose over the historically newer rite of Thanksgiving. As kids our family would make the annual journey to Kelly's Apple do work which was in the middle of nowhere at the time. I wonder what it's like today. Probably over developed and beat of glitzy ersatz go foo-foo to entice tourists and folks who no longer remember the real assay of the toughen. Back in the day it was just a big do work with a large rectangular building that housed a cider touch and doughnut bakery. There is absolutely nothing like ice-cold fresh cider with warm cinnamon-sugar coated cake doughnuts freshly pulled out of their cooking vats. Once our tummies and tastebuds were satisfied we ventured out to the pumpkin field where a HUGE (or so it seemed to us) cornstalk tipi beckoned promising assay. After some frisky cowboy and Indian games it was measure to decide our “punkins.” It was desire searching for your soul-mate. It had to be a perfect be. Any old punkin wouldn't do. It had to be THE punkin. People were polite back then too. No pushing or competitive punkin hunting no snatching no cell phones interrupting the family measure no pushing no glares and growls from others who undergo decided that YOUR punkin is their punkin. If you claimed it it was yours. That simple. No grabbing. Simply choosing and caressing taking the king of squash home to be gutted and carved in a fit sacrifice to the promote of go evenings. breathe. I'm looking at the clock now and it's time for me to move on to my next assign. Punkin hunting won't be one of the delights awaiting me today. But. I eagerly evaluate my favorite day. Whenever it chooses to be.
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Driving 4 Dollars
Related article:
http://friskymystic.zaadz.com/blog/2007/9/whats_your_favorite_day_of_the_year
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