It is autumn at the Chicken Ranch. The colored patchwork of leaves that adorns our trees makes me marvel at the beauty of seasonal change. The trees are heading toward a well earned rest, and the leaves that offered respite from the summer heat will be soon be gone. But, before the trees bare themselves, they present a parting gift of multi-hued splendor.
Today a cool rain falls upon us. The moisture laden leaves loosen and sail the wind, rocking back and forth until they reach the glistening grass below. The ground becomes a colorful carpet of tree offerings of every denomination. The golden yellows, oranges, reds, and maroons all blend together in natural harmony. It looks for all the world as if a giant quilt has been spread upon the lawn outside the rain-pocked window.
The window tap-taps as rain drops are forced against the panes. The wind pushes drops and leaves through the air, and quietly sings in the hedges and brush. It is the Viento Solitario, the Lonely Wind, that whispers its early warning, "Winter has begun its journey, and this way comes. Are you ready?"
I turn from the window and walk to my favorite chair. I smile as I settle in, and prop my Indian-moccasin-wrapped feet upon the stool. The fire is crackling as orange flames compete to reach the top of the logs. The steaming coffee cup in my hands and the warmth from the fireplace cover me in a blanket of comfort.
I bask in the fires glow and sip from my cup. I think to myself, 'all is well this day'.
I hear the wind moan again. I take in all that surrounds me in my country living room. 'Yes,I hear you Lonely Wind, give Old Man Winter a message for me'.
I hear the wind moan again. I take in all that surrounds me in my country living room. 'Yes,I hear you Lonely Wind, give Old Man Winter a message for me'.
'Tell him the Chicken Ranch is ready to meet him... just tell him not to hurry.'
