Ahhh, Autumn

Posted Oct 9, 08:45 PM by Kay Camenisch

It’s official. Autumn has arrived. Cool mornings greet us, bright colors sprinkle hillsides, and leaves float to the ground. School buses run the roadways, vegetable gardens look deserted, and rolls of hay dot the fields. In addition, pumpkin stands have popped up beside the road, corn shocks tied with ribbon lean against lampposts, and bright-colored mums flank doorways. Summer has ended. Fall is here.

Hills covered with bright leaves remind me of my junior year in college. I was in Bristol, Tennessee—just down the road from the Appalachian Trail. Rainfall, cold nights, and short days came together just right that year, producing leaves of brilliant yellows, reds, and golds. Occasional evergreens made the colors seem even brighter.

The Appalachian Trail beckoned—but I didn’t have transportation to get there. Instead, I talked constantly about hiking. That got a friend in trouble, because it made her want to go on a hike. When a boy she didn’t want to date asked her to go on the Appalachian Trail with him, she told him yes without thinking.

She came back to me and said that it was my fault she was stuck with this guy. Consequently, I had to find a date and go with her. I wasn’t accustomed to asking guys out—buuut, I really wanted to go tromp the Appalachian Trail while it was ablaze with fall color.

I carefully considered whom to ask. One at a time I ruled out all my male friends. I didn’t want to get a relationship started; I just wanted to go hiking and needed somebody to go with me. I was afraid they would read the wrong motive into an invitation. It wasn’t worth the risk of losing a good friendship.

I finally thought of someone who had sat at my table for meals several times lately. He seemed decent and fun. Since I didn’t really know him, I didn’t care whether I ruined our friendship or not. With nothing to lose, I asked Bob Camenisch if he would go with me.

He couldn’t go. He had a soccer game. But the next weekend—because he felt sure I wouldn’t say no, not because he was particularly interested in me—he asked me to go hiking with him.

We had a great time. We had such a good time that he invited me to go to the student union for a coke the next day. In fact, I think we saw each other every day that next week.

A week after our hike, I wrote my sister and said, “If he’s who I think he is, I’ve found the guy I’m going to marry.” She responded in record time. She cautioned me to be careful, not to rush into anything, a week isn’t very long to get to know somebody, and marriage is for a lifetime, et cetera, and so forth.

Well, Bob—now called Robert—ended up being even more than I thought he was. We celebrated our fortieth anniversary this past spring—and it all started with a beautiful fall. I wonder if one reason I love autumn so much is that it triggers memories and emotions of how I got together with the man of my life.

I’m sure that’s part of it, but there’s more. I love the bright colors, and am fascinated with the creative genius that causes green to fade away so the reds, golds, and yellows will shine. How amazing! And it’s programmed to happen every year! An annual gift from God!

Autumn stirs feelings of satisfaction too. Seeing hay in the fields, corn being harvested, and pumpkins beside the road is a reminder of the jars in the pantry and the packages in the freezer. This year has been a good year for gardens. A lot of food has been put away.

One year when the garden was bountiful, my mother canned 600 jars of food. (She was running a home for twelve men. The food would be used.) While showing me shelves full of tomatoes, beans, pickles, and more, she said, “I’ve had more tomatoes than I can say grace over!” She was tired of canning, but was grateful for food for the coming year.

No other season brings that same feeling of fulfillment, of completion. Autumn brings a warm, satisfying sense of “good job.” But nobody needs to say the words or give a pat on the back. God communicates the message just fine through pumpkins, mums, and colored leaves. Thank you, Lord. I’m grateful.