IF I COULD TAKE A DAY and tuck it away for safekeeping, to pull out on the dreariest of bone-chilling Minnesota winter days, it would be yesterday.
Sunday here in southeastern Minnesota was gloriously beautiful as in blue skies and sunshine and warmth melding with the changing colors of the season.
A walk in the woods. A drive in the country. Fishing at the King Mill Dam. Sunday was a day to be cherished.
My mom told me a few weeks ago how much she loves this month of cobalt skies. I’ve always felt the same about the skies of autumn.
And the hues of the leaves. Do I forget from year to year how lovely are the blazing oranges, the brilliant reds, the subtle browns? Or are the colors sharper, more vibrant, this year?
Really, it doesn’t matter. What matters is seeing, and appreciating, the blessedness of autumn.
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