Today is October 1, 2016 and I actually woke up a little excited about that. Anyone who has read my past blogs or who knows me very well will recall that we have entered my favorite month. The only thing casting a shadow on this otherwise lovely day is the horrible storm churning about in the Caribbean Sea, its sight seemingly set on Jamaica. I pray earnestly for those in the path of this hurricane.
Somewhat selfishly, I am also vexed with the thought that the storm will interfere with my carefully laid plans to spend next weekend in North Carolina with my daughter and granddaughter. I have been looking forward to spending a few days alone with them, taking in some Blue Ridge sights as we enjoy some of the changes of the season together.
I long to don a sweater, have my nose tickled by a blustery breeze and watch my granddaughter gracefully navigate a pumpkin patch somewhere along the way. I am dreaming of slurping warm seasonal soups and sharing a slice of apple pie with my daughter as we catch up. I envision us dancing along trails as we forage for adventure.
I know the trees will have already begun their dress in more vibrant hues of gold and scarlet. They remind me of debutantes aspiring to be the belle of the ball as they slip into their fanciful attire.
The ground may not be carpeted with the crunchy relics of summer yet, but in a few short weeks, the riot of color will cover the mountains. If I could stay for the entire month of October, I would. Better yet, I would stay until the last leaf floated down from the place of its origin and the skeletal trees shivered in the bitter winter wind, heralding winter.