Driving back home from town this morning, with my bundle of packages and a bag of croissants from the bakery, I turned onto our street--and the sight of rows of flaming maples lining the road nearly took my breath away. I can't remember a lovelier autumn than this one. It's just been incredible. The trees we planted a few years ago are coming into their own now and adding different shades of color, complimenting others that were here already. They seem particularly vivid against a backdrop of evergreens shrouded in fog. Amazing, is all I can say, and I wish it would last a bit longer.
Because very soon, this is about to change. A storm is on the rise. And so, before the autumn splendor gets entirely stripped away by wind and rain, and possibly snow later in the week, I grab a camera and head back out the door. The air is as crisp as a green apple. A hint of woodsmoke drifts by from a neighborhood chimney. Everything is still. Just the sound of leaves floating down around me. I turn, take a few steps, set up my shot, then sense something--watching.
Sometimes happiness is the simple realization that a still, small moment is special, and you thank the Heavenly Father for His provision of peace.