October is the longest month in the year. Maybe that's because so much happens in October. It's the first full month of school. It's the first month a young school girl can wear her new 3/4 sleeve plaid school dress that her mom picked out for her and not sweat her head off from 90 degree September heat. October is the birth month of my brother, David. He shared his month with our cousins Paul & David - all born around the same time. Then there's Columbus - the navigator and explorer - and that's as far as I'm going with him. I don't want to be heckled for crediting someone for something he didn't or did or might have done. October is the most beautiful month of the year - if the colors turn out right. There's always speculation as to how the colors become colorful. Is it a lot of rain? Too little rain? Cold summer? Warm summer? I equate it to the guessing of the sex of an unborn baby - lots of opinions. No know-how. 
As I got older, October became the month when many people I knew and loved died - my uncle, my mom, my dog - so much beauty gone away in a beautiful month. I think it is only fitting that those we love most should pass on in such a beautiful month. There is nothing more lovely to me than a red oak tree transfered from a green stalwart protector into a third grade child's art picture. I see so many colors of a Crayola Crayon 64 box (with the built in sharpener) in the month of October.
Every morning during the summer I looked across my road at the house that sits on the Iowa River. I loved to hear the boat horns and hear the muffled sounds of people having fun on their pontoon boats as they drifted lazily up and down the short stint between dams. Back & forth - many times on a Sunday. In a car it would be boring, but on a boat you can turn around 20 times before it's time to go home.
During the past week I have stood many times in my carport and stared for many minutes at the view of my across the road neighbor's house - her stunning red oak, each day losing a few leaves making the river more visible each day. As the view of the river becomes more prevalent, I see even more colors on the opposite bank- yellow and red maples, oak trees harboring velvet brown leaves that will hang on well into winter, yellow-green elms, thick-stalked wildflowers turning a pungent shade of brown. The river simmers while the frosty air is melted by the morning sun. I am overcome by this beauty of things dying.
This is why I love October.
As I got older, October became the month when many people I knew and loved died - my uncle, my mom, my dog - so much beauty gone away in a beautiful month. I think it is only fitting that those we love most should pass on in such a beautiful month. There is nothing more lovely to me than a red oak tree transfered from a green stalwart protector into a third grade child's art picture. I see so many colors of a Crayola Crayon 64 box (with the built in sharpener) in the month of October.
Every morning during the summer I looked across my road at the house that sits on the Iowa River. I loved to hear the boat horns and hear the muffled sounds of people having fun on their pontoon boats as they drifted lazily up and down the short stint between dams. Back & forth - many times on a Sunday. In a car it would be boring, but on a boat you can turn around 20 times before it's time to go home.
During the past week I have stood many times in my carport and stared for many minutes at the view of my across the road neighbor's house - her stunning red oak, each day losing a few leaves making the river more visible each day. As the view of the river becomes more prevalent, I see even more colors on the opposite bank- yellow and red maples, oak trees harboring velvet brown leaves that will hang on well into winter, yellow-green elms, thick-stalked wildflowers turning a pungent shade of brown. The river simmers while the frosty air is melted by the morning sun. I am overcome by this beauty of things dying.
This is why I love October.
No comments:
Post a Comment