"It's A Rainy Day in Georgia" by franticflagwave

It’s Monday morning October 12, 2009 and the windows of my home office are wet with the drool of this rainy fall day. Days like this give cause for reflection for me, what else can the mind do on such a wet soaking day. The appetites of the stomach think of a warm slice of pumpkin bread slathered in butter along with a hearty bowl of homemade soup. I love the fall with it’s jewel colors that embellish the landscape of the quaint hill towns we have here in north Georgia. This season of the year the mountains have the look of the colors found in in bowl of my childrens favorite breakfast cereal, Trix. Although the mountains can be quite lovely here in the south, nothing compares to vibrant colors found in New England in the fall. Our family had the good fortune of living in western Massachusetts for twelve years when our children were growing up. In any direction we were less than an hours drive from Vermont, New Hamshire or Connecticut affording our family romantic vista’s of the New England countryside in the fall of the year. The Old Mohawk Trial with it’s novelty gift shops and roadside stands were a visual feast for the eyes with the early fall colors. There were mounds of pumpkins anxiously awaiting choice by the creative hands of small children, gourds of every color and shape, dried flower bouquets and gallons of freshly squeesed cider to satisfy the thirst. A brown bag with handles of freshly picked Macintosh apples, a wedge of sharp cheddar cheese along and you had the perfect snack to carry in the car on your journeys drive. The cool mountian air blowing in your face as you stopped to enjoy the valley lookouts along the mountain roads seem to recharge the spirit to face the daunting gray days of winter ahead in the northeast. The weeks preceeding the “Christmas Season” in fall were to me the most enchanting. I love them with all their beautiful chaos and wonderment. Not much has changed for me over the years except I no longer live in New England and haven’t for 31 years now. All my children are now grown with their own famlies to share and create their own album of memories. It’s on days like today, forced into seclusion by the pouring rain, that I enjoy the minds return travel thru the archives of my memory. In so doing, I’m once again through the gateway of memory warmed by the taste of a hot cup of freshly squeezed spiced cider! As all of nature approaches it’s season of sleep in fall, I’m keenly aware that beneath the sod of the earth the Creator though the phenomina of regeneration, the process of death and decay is preparing the planet for the signs of a new beginning to come in early spring. Even as I evidence the gray death of winter, I’m conscious of this truth, we are not left abandoned by the Creator and left without hope! Spring with it’s burst of new life and growth awaits us shortly! Happy Fall everyone!!!