Golden Autumn Memories

As a child, the first signs of Autumn has always filled me with a giddiness that was unexplainable. Here's more moments from my past. .

All the way home from school, I had looked out the window at the scenery as the bus jolted and bounced for miles along bumpy country roads. The trees were beginning to don their Autumn colors, and I longed to be outside, twirling with leaves that danced in the afternoon breeze with the grace of ballet dancers before falling to earth. Beside me, my cousin, also my best friend, chattered like a squirrel about a new boy in her geometry class. My gosh, doesn't she ever shut up? I wondered. Rather than hurt her feelings by completely ignoring her, I mumbled responses at the appropriate times.

I could hardly wait for the bus doors to open before I hopped down the steps and bounded, like a doe, to my house. Barely taking time to tell my mom "hello," I stripped off my school clothes, and slipped into faded jeans and boots that were as familiar as the back of my hand.

Forcing myself to walk, I made my way to the barn, letting out an Ellie Mae Clampett type whistle. A shrill whinny came from within the dark recesses of the barn, and a few seconds later, my palomino mare, Dewdrop, appeared at her stall door, tossing her head excitedly.

She was truly a one-person horse; she allowed no one else on her back but me. Oh sure, a few brave souls had tried to ride her, but within a couple of minutes, she unceremoniously deposited them on the ground, leaving them to skulk away like scalded cats.

"Hi baby, wanna go for an adventure?" I asked as reached for the latch on her door. I laughed as she nickered and bumped her forehead affectionately on my chest. A tinge of wildness colored her coffee-brown eyes as I placed the hackamore on her head; she pranced like a parade horse as I led her into the pasture. then stood pawing the ground before I vaulted onto her broad back. As if released from a slingshot, we sped off, our souls joined as one as I leaned forward and grasped handfuls of cotton-white mane as the hardened muscles of the horse surged beneath me.

The wind whistled in my ears, and tears flowed from my wind-whipped eyes as we thundered across the earth. Gradually, I pulled back on the reins, asking instead of demanding the horse slow down. Snorting in disgust, the faithful mare slowed to a canter, then to a trot, and finally to a fast walk. The afternoon was silent except for the occasional cry of the red-tail hawk, declaring his territory as he circled high overhead.

Golden round bales of hay, a contrast to the brilliant blueness of the sky, sat silently in pastures, filling the air with their fresh, slightly parched, smell. We walked among the bales, and I allowed Dewdrop to snatch a few mouthfuls of the sweet hay.

We rode into the woods, the horse's hooves muffled by the carpet last year's pine needles and leaves which lay on the ground. The sun shone lazily through the tree limbs, splaying patches of afternoon sunlight across my mount and I. Finally, we reached our destination, a grove of wild pear trees. Slipping off Dewdrop, I picked a couple of the biggest pears I could find off the tree, then offered one to my impatient equine friend. Both of us closed our eyes as we bit into the pear, enjoying the sweet succulence.

That, my friends, is why I enjoyed, and still do enjoy, Autumn. What's your favorite season? What fond memories does it evoke?