“Smoke hangs like haze over harvested fields,
The gold of stubble, the brown of turned earth
And you walk under the red light of fall
The scent of fallen apples,
the dust of threshed grain
The sharp, gentle chill of fall.
Here as we move into the shadows of autumn
The night that brings the morning of spring
Come to us, Lord of Harvest
Teach us to be thankful for the gifts you bring us …” – Autumn Equinox Ritual
The corn stands tall, and the Sun dances in a cloak of light and shadow. Upon the Winds, the scent of sun ripened apples and mountain laurel in a misty wooded distance; the whispered wisdom of ripening grain. In the quiet moments upon a hillside, the whole world sings songs of Harvest and the Winds carry these songs to parched and barren corners of the world… singing lullabies of rain and hope. Autumn is a time of quiet miracles and gratitude.