Like George Eliot, my soul is wedded to 'delicious autumn'

Yesterday morning I was up early and strolled to the window with my cup of brew to welcome the sunshine.

Sitting on a rail fence across the road were two crows looking around and peering at my yard nearby. I’m thinking one might have been talking to the other.

“Look at that beautiful maple tree with those golden leaves decorating every limb,” one crow might have said.

I looked myself at the tree and found it most beautiful.

The other crow looking around might have replied: “And look at those two large mums in that fellow’s yard, one is so big and covered with tiny yellow flowers, and those beautiful maroon flowers on the other one nearby in front of the porch is as majestic as well.

I studied the crows for a few moments as they leaped from the fence rail and soon begin to dine on those fallen walnuts on the ground below.

Fall is such a special time of year for birds and people.

And I believe it was George Eliot who captured his affection for that season of fall:

"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird, I would fly about the Earth seeking the successive autumns."

Perhaps that is the very thing those crows were doing this crisp morning as they peered from that fence rail.

My soul, too, "is wedded" to this magic time of the year. These are the moments to begin to unwind from the busy days of summer, as nature changes its attire.

The nights grow longer. The flowers will sleep til spring, and the leaves become the autumn ornaments of the forest. The air becomes cooler while the winds rustle through the woods and the leaves wave goodbye to summer.

Most agree that fall begins around the 23^rd or 24^th of September as the leaves begin to turn to colors like orange, red, purple, yellow, brown, etc., decorating the hills.

I’ve always enjoyed the changing of the seasons as each one has its own personality. They are likened to life’s very chapters themselves.

As I pause in reflection, I realize I am getting older. It is a time to think of all the gifts of life I’ve been granted — a time, too, for thanksgiving.

Have you ever glanced at the harvest moon which lights up the heavens, or watched the squirrels carrying nuts across the road to prepare for the upcoming winter?

Have you notice that the hummingbirds have left their summer feeders behind, and other great birds of the sky are headed south? Can you hear the leaves rustling in the strong winds as they circle the air looking for a place to land?

Fall is a most magical time.

Henry David Thoreau offered his advice in "Walden":

"Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth …"

One of my most favorite memories of my youth includes the fall season when I took a hayride through Frog Hollow and around the roads of nearby Dargan with my favorite gal.

Oh, what a night to remember with the full moon leading the way for our tractor and hay wagon. Nothing quite compares to an October hayride through Frog Hollow on a moonlit night around Dargan.

In 2011, the University of Chicago even compared data of 1,500 centenarians (100 years or older) born in the U.S. between 1800 and 1895 with their shorter-living siblings or spouses. They discovered that more centenarians were born in the autumn than the spring.

Whatever reasoning the university applied, it seems from this small sampling there might be something of longevity related with the month one is born.

Perhaps nature itself and the seasons of the year have more influence on us than one might suspect.

As for me that season of fall is a time for rest, a time for reading, a time for reflection and travel to see the wonder of it all. It is a beauty painted on a canvass like no other without any paint as we gaze at the trees and the mountains, and all of nature begins to move at a slower pace.

And perhaps my most favorite lines of fall come from Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood. And sorry I could not travel both; And be one traveler long I stood; And looked down on as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth

I’m thinking Frost must have been in Dargan to see such a grand sight.

I’ve seen it myself!

Pete Waters is a Sharpsburg resident who writes for The Herald-Mail.

This article originally appeared on The Herald-Mail: Autumns changes bring about a time to reflect and give thanks