Each season brings with it amazing possibilities that garner the embrace of new adventures based upon the best of what that season provides us. This season is known for the "fall colors" that dot landscapes from almost every seasonal enclave.
Of course the most spectacular swath of colors can be found along the eastern seaboard, especially from New York to Maine. In one of my past lives I was blessed to live in upstate New York and experience first hand the majesty of the vibrant reds and yellows upon the canvas of the landscape. For miles you could see the contrast of color dancing to a samba that swayed to the beat of an invisible force.
Natures conductor provides us with a myriad of players from different sections within the orchestra of sound and light. Sometimes there is the pounding of thunder as an exclamation point and at other times there is the soft droning of the wind section as it looks for the perfect note in the key of life.
Somewhere east of Syracuse New York there is a town called Casanova. Casanova boasts three enormous inns that reflect different Irish, Scottish, and British themes. Just as you enter the town there is a wonderful road that takes you deep into the hamlets (or small towns) that surround this northeast borough.
One such hamlet, (Chittenango) is where Frank Balm grew up... Mr. Balm wrote the Wizard of Oz. He got the idea for the "Yellow Brick Road" from the road he traveled that connected his small town with Casanova NY. In the fall the yellow leaves from the Birch would lay a canopy over the road and thus provide Mr. Balm with the visual needed to create his iconic metaphor.
I remember on several occasions being mesmerized by the beauty unfolding before me. I think that with everything that's going on in the world it is important to see the grandeur of God's creation that provides us with natural landscapes that literally take our breath away.
I always loved the iconic poet, Robert Frost. Here is a poem written by Frost entitled,
"Nothing Gold Can Stay"
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only for an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
We can write our own script that features the magical and whimsical travels that warm our soul and enrich our existence. There is nothing wrong with enjoying castles in the sand, swings and slides, or even still believing in Santa. It is with these types of realizations that we can bring back the best part of whom we are... the child within us.
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