fall in sewanee has to be nature's explosion of glory and beauty before the onslaught of cold winter. fall is cheerful, expectant because it knows winter must come... it needs winter to recycle life. and spring will come. but fall... it's beautiful and each day we walk and turn our faces up toward the blue above. and we catch and store all those rays of life and light and all that's in between. and i'm not sure yet how to capture it and put it in my memory because right now it's just too beautiful to wrap up in a package and send it home to mom. 

i'm in the process of unlearning all the things i've taught myself. because fall here makes us grow backwards, digging our heels in to the pure bliss of these three weeks when it's sunny with a high of 75. and now, the leaves are turning red-gold, sort of like my hair. and all these sunsets we watch wrapped in our coats and these pure mornings we hurry through to class are just like those mountains in Miller's Through Painted Deserts that pour forth praise to God without ever having to say a word. and those mountains, our sunsets, the rays of light spinning off of All Saints', and that sky all scream of glory. and they don't need us to notice, because they'll do it anyway. 

yesterday, as the sun's rays passed below the steep, i watched as three girls ran around in the leaves. and they gathered the red ones and placed them on the benches in the random patterns of their youth. and they had not a care in the world, because no one's told them that there's anything wrong in the world. then mommy called, and they raced after her, competing for her free hand to have and to hold. and i wondered how long it's been since i grabbed mommy's hand and pulled it down because my red hair was just below her hips. and now i'm wondering what that Will would have to say to this Will. what did he spend his days doing? where'd he go? how many legos did he eat and how many forts did he build? how many t-shirts did he stain with his clumsy hands or rub through the mud on the way to dinner? tickled by daddy to wake up, and carefree as shorts legs flew barefoot into the pile of leaves. 

thanks to fall, this Will is beginning to remember, and grow backwards again. dazzled under blue skies that are mine. it's been a strawberry swing september and october's gonna be the same. Jesus said those that are like the little children will find the kingdom. and i'm learning that physics, and humanities, and books aren't gonna teach me that. but maybe blue skies and red-gold life will.