Verdant greens have faded into flaring reds, burning golds, vibrant oranges, and mellow browns.
Cool mornings and mild afternoons become colder and harder during the wee small hours of the day, with little of their chill relenting even unto the passage of mid-day. Light cotton shorts and t-shirts have been exchanged for corduroy and wool.
A goodly din hearkens my house awake on this breezy gray morning. My children trundle and toddle down the stairs…
…first Israel, the early riser, comes bounding and beaming `cross echoing floorboards. White night-shirt trailing and entangling his feet as he flits on hammer tip-toe.
…then Sophia soon after, ambling her pudgy frame gingerly down the staircase and calling out to me: “Da-daa? Da-DAA?!” Her dulcet voice strains in eager anxiety.
…lastly comes Gaelynn, well after the Sun has crested the horizon and blinding beams of golden light flare through the silken curtains. She walks down the stairs deliberately, without flourish or haste.
My mother, too, is here with us, arising early with her young grandson. She is staying to assist my wife during the time of our fourth child`s imminence. Arriving in the late-night hours of Wednesday morning, her arrival is as a great wind through a leaf-strewn path. Crafts, chores, and giggles have been abundant of late… it seems, even more so than usual.
Yet, I am called away on my day`s endeavors of business. The hours turn achingly slow between harried moments of tasks and engagements.
Here now… I hesitate, for a moment`s peace, at the cresting of the Noon-tide. I imagine, smiling of that blissful hour, when I shall return home.
`Tis Friday, the end of the long and weary work-week. O, how I look forward to a long restful weekend in the bosom of my beloved ones. Friday night is “pizza night” and I am already savoring my beloved`s homemade crust and sauce, the fragrant aroma and windows foggy from the oven`s heat.
I look forward to a Saturday spent rambling along the seaside, watching the children chase the dog into the tumbling breakers. Fierce conversation with my mother about anything and everything. College football on the telly and simmering cooking smells.
The LORD`s Day will bring a sweet morning spent in worship, with my mother at my side, a privilege I have not enjoyed in far too many years. A Sunday afternoon Luncheon feast, and the quietude of long siestas. With an evening spent in an ardent study upon the weighty matters of Faith.
O, but now, my time of rest is at an end and there is work aplenty to be done. I have many promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.