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!
