O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide gray skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag,
And all but cry with color! That gaunt crag,
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!
Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart,--Lord I do fear;
Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me,--let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.
By Edna St. Vincent Millay
Almost overnight, our hills have been touched by a celestial paint brush. Although the foliage is not yet at its peak, the scarlet and orange maples have come into their own, gleaming beside the sunny yellow ones. The hills from a distance resemble a giant patchwork quilt, but a bright orange maple standing alone against October's blue sky has a breath taking beauty.
Many times I have wondered-if this earth we dwell in has so much loveliness, then what will heaven be like? Our finite minds could never take in the glories of heaven, if this earth's beauty overwhelms us so. The Bible is vague concerning the description of heaven-our mind and senses will have to be expanded to take it in. We know that glories do await the children of God.
We got a taste of the glories of autumn this week when daughter Patty took me and her three little granddaughters on a Mule (RV) ride. The little one, Maddie, told me, "Oh, Mommaw, we are going on a "venture." It was an adventure all right-we ended up at Buzzard Rock.
This was once a popular place for folks to hike and explore. When I was young, it could be reached only by a path through the woods. There was no road, and the rocks loomed high and forbidding in the air. The only way to get on top was to climb through a narrow split in the rock, which was hair-raising to say the least.
The first trip I can remember was on that narrow path through the woods with Mom and Daddy and all the children. Daddy took our farm horse, Old Topsy, for the younger children to ride. I refused to ride anyway, as I had a fear that the horse was going to fall over sideways. We took a picnic lunch and all of us climbed up through the split.
I was scared to death that one of the little ones would fall off the sheer face of the cliff. I ran around like a mommy setting hen, trying to keep all her little chickens in one bunch. Daddy showed us where he had carved his and Mom's initials on the top of the rock when they were courting. Through the years, there were hundreds of names and initials carved there, many of which have been obscured by the passing of time and encroaching vegetation.
Now, there has been a road built all the way to the top, which can be reached by RV's and a lot of nerve. Patty parked the Mule and we prepared to walk across the top, which actually is a series of rocks with sheer drop-offs on each side. The derecho that ravaged our hills this summer had uprooted huge trees that lay across our pathway. The trees root systems were so shallow by growing right on the surface of the rock that they were easily toppled over.
We climbed over, under and through huge tree trunks and branches. Adrianna, age seven, Lainee, age five and Maddax, age four, scampered nimbly through the tree limbs, followed by Minnie, my Jack Russell terrier. I bumbled along, all the while yelling at the girls to walk in the middle of the path. Minnie would rush up to a sheer cliff and peep over, while my heart was in my throat. I felt like I did when my siblings were little.