A Fall Walk In My Life Place
I walk out my front door. The sun is beginning to set and the air gives me a chill that reminds me it’s fall. I get distracted by Jackson, the neighbor’s dog, an elderly white social Labrador who doesn’t seem fazed by the wildlife around him; even the wild rabbits that live in his evergreen shrubs. I witness the fuzzy tailed rabbits scurry in and out of their hiding place. I scan the east side of my house looking for Satsumas and Eversweet Pomegranates to pick. I stuff as much as I can in my pockets and l lay them outside my front door.
As I descend down the paved sidewalk, I ogle manmade landscapes, non-indigenous palm trees, nicely manicured St. Augustine and fescue, fall pumpkins on front doorsteps, and the eager neighbor hanging up Christmas lights. I continue on my concrete path, and come to a road that leads me to the Meadows. Along the way, bees suck nectar, butterflies whisper by, and birds chirp. The setting of the sun is near and their time spent in the last minutes of daylight will cease soon.
As I enter the Meadows, the pathway is sharp and its natural form tells me where to step. This leads me to the top of a rugged and partly grassy hill that overlooks miles of walking trails that flow in and out of a micro “savannah”. There are no flowers blooming right now. It is peaceful. The sun has filled the sky with delicious bright oblique hues of yellow, orange, pink, and blue. Nature is astounding. As I weave back and forth through the dirt paths, I realize I have been focusing so much on soil, fauna, and flora, I forgot to look up. As I do, I notice a collection of goats who have been confined by a portable electric fence. Two guard dogs pacing back and forth protecting them, giving a growling warning as hikers pass by. The goats have been stationed there to graze the wild vegetation. They are rotated every few days as an alternative to using poisons.
As I walk back home, I think about how these natural wonders were created. How long they have existed? I renounce my thoughts and acknowledge Wendell Berry’s insightful explanation. “We must learn to acknowledge that the creation is full of mystery; we will never entirely understand it” (Berry, 2002).
Berry, W. (2002). The Art of the Commonplace. Berkeley, CA: Counterpoint.