FALLING INTO FALL

 

Gems glitter on grass,

royal-blue ribbons herald fall,

sunflowers drinking light.

A wedge of geese honks,

cornstalks rattle their fingers,

Joe-pye weeds dancing.

Pumpkins dot the patch,

the old wagon is loaded.

Mama's pie baking.

Ghosts fly through the skies,

stars sparkle on black velvet,

a barn owl resounds.

                 --Brenda Kay Ledford

Wishing all my blogger friends Happy Halloween!

Signs of Fall

     It's beginning to look a lot like fall here in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Western North Carolina.  There's no holding back autumn.  The first trees to turn are the walnuts.  Golden leaves flutter on the wind as the sunflowers lift their cups to drink light.

    A wedge of wild geese honks over the cornfield that glitters like copper.  Goldenrods waltz beside Hyatt-Mill Creek babbling past the Grove Farm.  Shewbird Mountain wears a purple shawl in the distance.  Cardinals spear red berries from the dogwood trees and lilac asters bring bouquets to Swaims Road.

    The evenings grow cooler and our Hayesville High School football team plays their rivals.  Our local church holds a luncheon for the Clay County Schools and I wear gold and black to support the Yellow Jackets.  I pick up a cake at the Ingles Grocery with the message:  Bless our schools!

    Each fall my heart is drawn toward the school.  As a retired educator, I will always long to teach kids.  I can almost smell the chalk, hear the kids treading down  the hall, and standing at the door greeting each child to my classroom.  My heart fills with love for my students.

    Fall is a beautiful season.  I love the bright colors, the wildflowers, football games, pumpkin pie, apple cider, and the Fall Festival held in our mountain town.

    Some call it autumn, others call it God!

Sunflower

 The first sunflower of August 

lifts a cup to drink light,

a Full Sturgeon Moon stamps

its fingerprint on royal-blue skies.

Golden coins spin from trees

on a pine-scented breeze,

walnuts plump to a carpet

of needles, squirrels gather food.

A wedge of wild geese honks

over the cornfield glittering with copper,

lilac asters bring bouquets to Swaims Road

as Hyatt-Mill Creek laughs through

a tunnel of Joe-pye weeds.

The tempo of nature increases:

creatures rush and prepare for winter,

kids get supplies, gear up for school.

                 --Brenda Kay Ledford

I wish all my blogger friends joy as autumn approaches.

Town Creek--the Little Mountain Stream

 

TOWN CREEK

Goldenrod waltz on the wind,

Tusquittee Mountains stretch their arms

to the crystal-cobalt skies.

The backwoods stream gurgles

over arrowheads the Cherokee Indians

carved at Spikebuck Town.

The poplar trees wave

their golden fans, the earth

cannot hold back fall.

Through the verdant valley,

beside an old-red barn,

the Town Creek murmurs.

She is just a brook,

no one looks up to her.

Wild geese honk in v-shape 

above the Lake Chatuge.

Your waters, little creek,

are the heart of her soul.

             --Brenda Kay Ledford

My daddy was a Baptist preacher.  One of his wise sayings was:  "Little is much if God is in it!"

Chicken of the Woods Mushrooms

 I never saw it coming when Mama asked if I had checked on the chicken.

"No, has it flown the coop? I asked.

She laughed and told me this chicken didn't need deboning or defeathering.  Just pluck it from a dead tree.

"Are you kidding, Mama?  I've never heard of that."

She frowned.  "I thought I had taught my children to identify plants.  Chicken of the Woods is a mushroom."

Chicken of the Woods is fan-shaped and has an orange and yellow colors.  It grows on dead trees.

I gave Mama a puzzled look.  She put on her straw hat and grabbed a basket.

"Come child," she said with her honey voice.  "We'll gather some Chicken of the Woods Mushroom and make a salad for supper."

I learned an important botany lesson that day.  A chicken is not a bird!

by:  Brenda Kay Ledford 

SUMMER SOLSTICE

 

On the first day of summer,

the sun floated like a balloon

above the Bald Mountain

and ricocheted through the forest.

The Tiger lilies lifted cups

to drink the morning light,

a chorus of birds performed

outside my bedroom window.

Warmth wrapped my body

like a blanket as the raindrops

vanished with a wave

of the summer solstice.

The promise of long days

filled my heart with delight

as the sun nourished the crops

and night gave way to light.

                  --Brenda Kay Ledford

Happy Summer to all my blogger friends!

Father's Day

My brother, Harold Ledford, holding his baby granddaughter, Lucy Claire.  Harold was a wonderful father and loving grandfather.  He was softhearted as chocolate melting on a hot sidewalk toward children and animals.  Harold was a perfect example of fatherhood!

My father passed away on Thanksgiving Day in 1988.  My brother, Harold, also passed away two days before Thanksgiving two years ago.  Both of these men were wonderful fathers and loving grandfathers.  I'm so grateful that I had these two kind, gentlemen in my life.  

Fathers are very important.  President Barack Obama said, "Any man can father a child, but not all men are fathers."

The loving presence of fathers in the family is critical in the development of children.  Statistics state that many youth get into crime because they didn't have fathers as role models.  It's also important for little girls to have fathers who are kind to them.  It gives daughters confidence and to one day choose a husband who will love and be kind to the them.

As you can see in this photo, my brother, Harold, adored his little granddaughter, little Lucy Claire.  What a blessing to have such a warm, loving relationship.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there.