October 12, 2020

An Autumnal Story

On My Stroll

On my stroll, my senses were alive with the enchantment of October. The narrow pathway was blanketed in golden leaves crunching softly below my feet. The thick cover of trees surrounded me in a gentle shadow. I pulled the jacket zipper under my chin thankful for the warmth around me and welcomed the cool morning air biting at my nose. I would miss these simple, slow days at the farm. The letter had come, and the farm would be sold by the end of the year. I felt tears pricking my eyes as I thought about every memory wrapped up in this place that I would be leaving behind. Inside myself I resolved that this final October would be a time of festivity before letting go. The tree line opened as I walked toward the barn with its neatly stacked hay and suddenly, I had an idea.

Cozy Rituals

My morning stroll concluded at precisely the right moment, as I stepped inside raindrops began to lightly patter on the rooftop. I set the kettle on top of the stove as I began to prepare the coffee grounds. The kitchen filled with the most welcoming aroma; notes of caramel and smoke danced around me. The kettle whistled to beckon me back. I settled into the worn chair by the window sipping the freshly brewed coffee filled with gratitude for these cozy morning rituals. I returned to my earlier idea, letting my mind run wild with all the possibilities. My heart almost bursting as I thought about all the people along this country ridge I had known for so long. It was beginning to solidify, an autumnal festival to bring everyone together. The festival would welcome the coming season, a preparation for winter and my heart.

Amidst The Hues

I could see the church in the distance, amidst all hues, its steeple reaching up into the heavens. As I approached, the pathway was covered in shades of orange, yellow, and red. Pumpkins of all shapes and sizes adorned the entrance to the church. Stepping inside I felt a reverent peace wash over me. The smell of old hymnals and worn wooden pews greeted me. Generations of memories were held in this small country church; celebrations and sorrows all mixed together and carefully stored away in the hearts of those who walked through the door. I knew this would be the perfect place to conclude the pumpkin parade. After speaking with the pastor, I was delighted the church would be available for the autumnal festival. I ran home, leaves kicking up below my feet in my haste. The final touches were coming together.

Pumpkin Parade

The evening of the autumnal festival had arrived. Neighbors and friends all gathered in the barn with twinkling lights overhead. Tables were filled with treats of all kinds – caramel apples, pumpkin bread, apple cider donuts, spiced cake, and chocolate chip cookies. I saw children running, playing, and sneaking an extra treat from the table as the adults around them sipped coffee. The sound of laughter and joy filled the space. In the blink of an eye it was time for the Pumpkin Parade, everyone bundled up with their lanterns to begin the journey over to the church. The pathway was lined with pumpkins glowing in the moonlight. A warm bonfire was there to welcome us when we arrived. I looked around, taking in every small detail to tuck away into my memory. This is how I wanted to remember this place, full of love, joy, and community. I looked up at the starry sky as little white snowflakes began to fall. The End.

Short Story

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.