Currents in the Mist

Autumn in the Midwest brings cooler temperatures, lovely displays of fall colors and mornings with thick blankets of misty fog. These are the misty fogs that can be watched rolling in and slowly envelop the still heavy eyed and sleepy morning risers, such as me, in a cloud. Fog or no, the first thing in the morning is to let the dogs out. Spotlights are turned on and I can actually see thousands, hundreds of thousands of tiny water droplets moving on air currents.                                                                                                                                         Positioning myself just right in the lights, I can now see how my movements are changing the patterns of the air. I can’t resist moving my arms and legs, slowly raising my arms over my head, then balancing on one leg. The water droplets twist as they are caught in small airborne whirlpools; the currents are changed by my movements.                                                                                                Most of the time, we can’t see how everyday movements impact the currents of air that swirl around. It is the occasional fog or smoke that makes these things visible to the naked eye. Subtle things, those currents, like influences of people in my life.                                                                                                                                                        An eighth grade math teacher of mine passed away yesterday. He made a subject that has always been a challenge for me into something intelligible. I remember being able to do math and I remember his kindness. There have been many that have made wonderful influences in my life as well, sweet currents that have surrounded me and others.  Teachers who have grown, mentors who have guided, friends of celebration and solace, pastors to shepherd, family to love, and many kind strangers who have been eddies.

                                                                                   We often do not see the true twirl and whirl of our influence, the changes our movements make in the currents. The unlooked for encouragement that may change a life, the writing that enables the courage of good men, and songs that let us share our most gentle loves; churn words, spin and twirl in the fog – create beautiful currents around me and the people around me. I may not be able to see them, but I can choose how to shape them. I want them to be beautiful.

  

   

Football Soup Season – Chicken Pot Pie Soup

I love autumn. I think it may just be my favorite season, minus those snowy nights that are perfectly still and quiet, with bright full moons shining down. The ever changing hues of fall are something which attracts my eyes; as leaves change from green to orange or yellow, red or burgundy. Corn stalks are burnished gold in the sunshine. Leaves fall, sounding like rain drops and are great fun to try to catch. The smell of rain is different, not made up of the thawing smells of spring or the hot misty smells of summer. 

Beyond the feel, sounds, and smells of autumn – I love the flavors! Crunchy apples with each bit ranging between tart and sweet, I have to pause to enjoy each bit and each apple’s fragrance. As the temperatures cool outside, the warming influence of a bowl of soup is lovely and welcoming. A soup that is easy to put together and is a handy crockpot recipe as well.

In the crockpot, add a bag of frozen chicken breast; this is a great recipe for one of those big bags that you can get a good deal on. With that, add a bag of frozen green beans and another of corn. A family size can of Cream of Chicken soup should be spooned in, adding water to the can and pouring it into the crockpot as well. 

Peel approximately a pound of carrots and about a dozen yellow potatoes.  Chop them coarsely and add them to the pot of soup.  Include two large white onions, cut into quarters.  I finish by flavoring my soup with red pepper and a little rosemary.  

Cook until chicken and vegetables are cooked through.  The potatoes and carrots will be tender when cut. Add milk to richen the broth and cook about another twenty to thirty minutes. The chicken pieces will be very tender to either pull apart with a large fork, or remove them with a slotted spoon, cut them up and add back in. 

Chicken Pot Pie Soup - enjoying the warming goodness of the pot pie filler without all the extra calories of the crust.

1 bag of chicken breast, skinless and boneless  *

1 family size bag of frozen green beans

1 family size bag of frozen corn

1 lb. of carrots

1 medium size bag of yellow roasting potatoes

1 family size can of Cream of Chicken soup

2 large white onions

1/2 cup of milk     

Red pepper and rosemary to taste

*If I had had time, I would have used a whole chicken to make this soup.

Time Travel on the Driveway

Time has been on the minds of people for a long time. Our myths from centuries back tell stories of time travel, moving forward or backward in time, being able to see what is coming or what happened. We seem to be fascinated with time, time management, time efficiencies, and making the world ever smaller in ever faster technologies. Whether it is a desire to see what will come, has gone, or a way to pause; the need to slow down is one that hits me regularly. I need to slow down, taking time to think about and look at the world around me. It is recharging for me and lets me gather perspective as I listen for a quiet voice of God.

I’m reminded of this need to slow down every time I come down the driveway. There are many kinds of driveways, concrete and asphalt, gravel and dirt. My driveway is a mix of gravel, dirt, and asphalt chunks. It is rutted and uneven in places where water has cut trenches through and left hills and valleys. It needs some work. But, part of me really likes the driveway this way. It forces whoever is coming to the house to slow down; to watch out for dogs that don’t get out of the way of cars and to be on the lookout for rabbits that believe strongly in perpetual rabbit right-of-way. It is a reminder to me to slow down, such an important reminder in our fast paced world.           

I wouldn’t want to give up my cell phone, email, facebook, and other media timesaving technologies forever. What I do want to do is create a balance with reminders that often cause me to pause and look around. Yesterday, I looked up and saw a cloud move across the morning sky. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, and the clouds still had a heavy grey look to them. I thought they looked thick until I saw a lacey view of the moon, edged in a graceful and moving frame. This morning, a golden fog caught the sunlight and let it display its beams suspended in droplets of vapor. The feel of autumn crispness is reflected in the crispness of sweet red and tart green autumn apples. Beautiful fawns have lost their spots, and are now preparing for winter’s cold by growing out their thick fuzzy coats. Their mouths seem to be in a perpetual state of chewing as they utilize the end of summer foliage to prepare for the upcoming chill. A small moth landed on the window, spread its wings and sunned itself in a wonderful leaf disguise.

Maybe our many myths and scientific studies of time travel can be brought to our daily lives by stopping to breathe in the smells, watch for the wispy clouds, feel the sun-filled water droplets in the foggy air, and slow down when coming down the driveway.

Dear Autumn,

   I walked out the door this morning, and you were here! I’m so excited to see you. Once again, your arrival is first rate. The leaves are just at a wonderful hue of color, and when the morning sun shines against them they are little lamps of tint and dyes. They crunch under foot and make beautiful waterfall sounds falling from the eaves. You have perfumed the air with the late blooming flowers, sweet and fragrant against the cooling earth. I look forward to the smooth feel of the pumpkins, the taste of the first cider, and the feel of cool wind and warm sun.

   Oh Autumn, I’m so glad you have come. I hope you can stay for a long while.

October in Iowa, July in Alaska

   October in Iowa is beautiful. The corn and soybean fields turn gold, the leaves start changing colors, and the temperatures drop. While there are so many colors outside, the last of the hardy flowers put on a fragrant display of color. Mums in orange, rust, burgundy, yellow, white, and gold line the side of the barn and the brick gate. They balance against the glossy green of the rose bush leaves, and the dark red of the rose hips. Marigolds of orange and yellow continue to bloom, bushed amongst the peppermint and yarrow. The deer are putting on their winter coats, growing darker grey and coming to eat and put on a winter weight. The chipmunks and squirrels are stashing away their walnut and seed findings for a wintry banquet.

   On these days, when there is just a hint of moisture in the air, it reminds me of Alaska in July. It reminds me of the beautiful flowers grown in planters and baskets outside of windows. Carefully tended, the colors showcase every possible blend. The green is seen in the trees, turning into the teals of the water. Beautiful streams made from glacier melt create a feeding area for bear, moose, and other animals. Soon the long winter nights will settle in there, but in July it’s still long days and the colors are amazing.
   As I walk down the street this month, if there is a hint of wetness in the cool air, if there are flowers blooming, be sure that I am thinking of Alaska in July.

Fall Festival

   Today, a yearly Fall Festival occurs at our church. It’s not really all that fancy, but it’s a fun day of music, friendship, food, and activities. I’ve helped at all of these festivals that I’ve been around for, and each one has had its own personality. One of the first memories I have is the weather being so hot that I ended the day standing in a pile of ice. Then, there was the festival that I really couldn’t walk because I had a bum leg. I remember the donuts being a big hit, they were freshly made and so yummy! A fire truck comes, which is a favorite with the kids big and small. A scarecrow contest has been held a few times, which showcased some amazing creativity!

   It’s not about anything fancy, anything terribly elegant. It’s about time together to have fun. It’s a lot of work, but with many helpers the load becomes much easier to bear. I’m looking forward to today, even though by the end of the day my feet will be blistered and I will be so ready to see my bed. If you are around, come on out! And bring a can for the food pantry, you can help serve someone in need, because hunger is a terrible thing.

The Smell of Fall

   The time of year, I eagerly await the first day that smells like fall. The combination of musty leaf smell, with the sweet smell of pumpkins on the breeze signals the changing season. Unlike the warm smell of summer, the fall smells carry so many different things with them. Last night, just for a moment, I caught a hint of the autumn smells and was so excited.

   It is the smell of leaves, wet with the cooler rains and the earth cooling for winter. The smell of chili on the stove, with crackers and cheese melted in. The quiet of a cool fog on the river, as the sound of the boat horns cut through the stillness. Leaves that dry and scatter across the ground start crackling like the bonfires, with the aromatic smells of the wood being caught in their smoke. I’m so looking forward to another fall, another season of smells and sights to enjoy.

The Great Painter

Ever since I can remember, every fall I have heard the story of the Great Painter. Every fall, the leaves slowly change from their chlorophyll full green to their real shade of yellow, red, orange, and tan. The Great Painter paints each leaf; each is its own work of art – unique and special. If the leaves stayed green, we would miss the colors of fall.

Life changes too, colors of transformation. I think about ten years ago, 5 years ago, or yesterday. Each day is unique; each is its own piece of art. I can think of some days that are kind of orange, filled with warmth. They remind me of days with fire rings, low bonfires with potatoes roasting in the coals, a pile of marshmallows ready to be licked by flames and caramelized.

The yellow leaves, sunny in color are some of my favorites. Like bits of sunshine caught all the way into the cell walls of the leaf, they hold color of sweet Indian summer days, holding bits of tantalizing warmth. I’ve had some yellow leaf days, days that are full of brightness, laughter, and friendship.

Caught on misty wet sidewalks, the tan leaves stick to the concrete. They are the misty, rainy days that declare it is necessary to grab a soft blanket and go back to bed. Candle light, a fire in the stove, sweatshirts, and warm soup are all needed on the tan days. Tan days are the blah, ho-hum days. There may be some tears, there may be some wishing for different colors. These are also the days to be thankful for the other colors.

As the Great Painter paints the leaves, and the days – I’m hoping for lots of orange and yellow days, but know that there will be some tan days as well. After all, how could they orange and yellow be as sweet without them?