November drapes the Blue Ridge Mountains with a tapestry of maroon, gold, and brown. It weaves a mat of tan threads on the soybean field that's ready to harvest.
Two squirrels chase each other around a tree trunk, leap on a carpet of leaves, and scamper with walnuts into the woods. The waking sun ricochets through a handful of golden foliage.
Autumn fades into earth tones. These butternut colors depress some people because they announce the arrival of winter.
But my daddy's favorite color was brown. He ran a bulldozer and loved the dirt. Maybe it's because he was down-to-earth and made no pretense. Kind, generous, and grateful were his qualities.
He passed away on Thanksgiving Day. This holiday will always hold a hollow place in my heart. If it had been possible, Daddy would have chosen this day to enter heaven.
Created from the earth, returning to the earth, and springing forth from the earth. The cycle of life.
It's no wonder Daddy's favorite color was brown.
I wish all my blogger friends a blessed Thanksgiving!
Brenda
