Simple gifts

When it gets to be around Thanksgiving time, two songs tend to enter my brain: "Over the River" and "Simple Gifts." The first, I assume, is due to the truth it conveys about the weather. "Oh, how the wind does blow...it stings the toes and bites the nose." Indeed. As for "Simple Gifts," I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because it's folky and Aaron Copeland-y, and with all the woodsmoke and crunchiness in the air, it just seems right. But the lyrics are surely something my subconscious is telling me to listen to:

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be, 
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

I just wanted to share a few glimpses of our magnificent autumn around here (a few from Coeur d'Alene), now that the arctic blast has arrived and pushed us into winter mode. The fall has always been a sentimental season for me, and this year it seemed to be especially filled with those things that make me pause with wonder and emotion: how a stranger could be so generous; how a once-tiny child is now grown and is captivating a congregation with her music; how many shades of yellow are within my immediate view; how loving and warm this living-room tableau is; how sweet it is to sit at the table with a nice thing to eat.

When the leaves have fallen and the frost has arrived, when our senses aren't filled with color and sounds of other seasons, perhaps nature is giving us a space to rest and focus on these simple things.