I love this time of year. It's the time of year where God takes out his paint brush and begins to color the landscape of the upper midwest--first with delicate detail....a little color here....another color there....then with broad, sweeping strokes as the passion of His painting grows.
You've heard the saying, "You can't see the forest for the trees." In spring, summer, and fall, you can't see the trees for the forest. Unless you look carefully at the landscape, the trees don't really stand out from each other. They are often one mass of differing shades of green.
Not in autumn. You can't see the forest for the trees. You lose the larger picture as the trees spotlight themselves. It's almost as if you meet them for the first time:
"Well, hello, Mr. Majestic Red Pine. You look mighty fine against that backdrop of yellow and red! I didn't know you lived there!"
"Why Mr. Blue Spruce. I had no idea how blue you really were!"
"Mrs. Burning Bush. Really. Do you need to be so flagrant?"
"I must say, Mrs. White Pine....your needles are looking especially soft today."
"Good day to you, Maple Family. Are you going for the fluorescent-orange look of the 80s this year? It's very becoming next to the red!"
Not only do the trees begin to pop out, but the painted landscape surrounding the straw-color of corn still standing in the field makes one want to don a flannel shirt and sit down next to a campfire with a cup of hot cocoa.
I love autumn.
("You made the moon to mark the seasons, the sun that knows the hour of it's setting...How varied are your works, Lord! In wisdom you have wrought them all....May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord be glad in these works!" ---from Psalm 104)