Autumn

Fall is here! Today’s cool breeze made the hot, dry summer worthwhile. The students who didn’t pass their summers in Texas surely couldn’t have appreciated today as much as I did.

Temperatures dropped to the upper 60s, and we donned long sleeves and sweatshirts. I rollerbladed around the loop and was treated to a wilder symphony than I’d heard in a long time. Mockingbirds and sparrows were especially vocal.

Later, I took my homework outside. I must confess that I didn’t fare very well with Heart of Darkness. My attention was drawn away by the mockingbird singing in the branches above me and the pigeons flying nearby.

I’m excited to see the new birds that will come through with the cold weather. I doubt that I will recognize them, but it’ll be fun to try

Welcome, Autumn.

Death

I should be studying. Instead, I walk, wondering over a love that would leave seven children fatherless and thrust a 17-year-old boy into the role of father and comforter to his family.

A raging sun sets, furiously, passionately. Beautiful, but angry. Chafing laughter grates from the football game. Hot tears.

Doves and mockingbirds. A swift, closer than usual. Crickets and cicadas, steadfast and constant.

I stroke a red leaf. Autumn is coming. Some have said that we don’t have fall here, but we do. Miniscule creatures scurry at my feet. The sky is now a deep, deep blue, the West swirled with purples and oranges. Killdeer trot on the now vacant fields, whistling as they play. All of creation testifying, responding to an omnipotent Creator.

I don’t understand, but I trust.

Paradise lost

The open gate was the first clue that something was wrong. The gate’s supposed to be closed and locked.

I was attempting a birding trip with Michaela, Andrew, Fjord, and Ludwhig. Our destination was the iron bridge road. I’d longed for that endless road all summer. The place was like paradise, I told Fjord. I was excited to go back.

It was destroyed though. As we started walking, Andrew noticed that the leaves were red with dirt and dust from frequent traffic. Soon we heard the repulsive roar and beeping of numerous trucks. The tree-canopied road was canopied no longer. A large clearing was filled with generators, semi-trucks, and construction and tractor type equipment. I wanted to cry.

We walked along, moving aside every few minutes to let a semi pass, and I helplessly tried to describe to Ludwhig and Fjord the beauty that the iron bridge road once had.

The lake was still filled with egrets. We stopped to watch, but the bridge was too narrow for both the five of us and the semi-trucks, so we moved on.

Gate 29 was open, so we walked through. Aside from the modern background noise, the road there was unchanged. We enjoyed the beauty around us, although we saw few birds. On our way back, we stopped to watch the sunset from the iron bridge. Traffic had ceased by then, so we were free to watch in peace.

As we left, we issued a name change. The Iron Bridge Road is now called Paradise Lost.

Beauty on campus

It’s good to be back at school. I haven’t seen as many herons and egrets as at home, but birds of prey fly over campus often. When the East is still the faintest pink, robins dot the ground. The days are finally cooling off. In fact, weather.com predicts 62 degrees for tonight. I wasn’t ready to go back to the dorm after dinner, so I dropped my shoes off behind a bush and started walking.

The streets were dusty, but the grass was cool and clean. The crickets were noisy. A few birdcalls I did not know rang out from the trees, and a nighthawk flew in between Tyler and the chapel site.

The stars in Longview may be dim, but still they’re beautiful. The trees are getting fewer and fewer, but still the front of campus has magestic, huge pines. The sounds of Mobberly are constant, and Narf threatens to deafen us all, but still crickets and cicadas persevere. I love wild, unadulterated nature, but even the smallest bit of creation is beautiful.