Oak leaves ride the wind like canoes. Poplar trees overlook a cornfield. Corn shocks rattle their fingers in the wind. Soon Hub Cheeks will bring his combine and cut the silage.
A celery-colored hill peeks above Hyatt Mill Creek. Black and white cattle huddle beneath a persimmon tree.
I recall Mama used to gather persimmons each fall and make preserves. The bitter-sweet jelly tasted delicious on hot, buttered biscuits.
Something moves. My friend, Nancy Simpson, says that to detect something moving is like another sense. We have five senses: sight, taste, feeling, hearing, and smelling. To sense something moving is almost another sense.
I do sense something moving. I ease the curtains back for a better view. Three deer glide over a split-rail fence then bound into the woods. I wonder if they will escape the hunters this year.
Each evening same time, around dusk, five wild turkeys march up our neighbor's driveway. The fowls strut in a straight line, cross Swaims Road, then disappear into the pine thicket with a gobble. At Thanksgiving these birds need to tone it down and hide.
At Thanksgiving, we need to count our blessings. It's a time for recalling long ago falls of family fun and laughter. It reminds us of good times and God's many blessings.
I hope all my blogger friends have a very Happy Thanksgiving. I am thankful for my blogger friends and enjoy visiting your wonderful sites.