Autumn

It’s funny how the first smells of autumn bring back so many more memories than any other season for me. The damp sidewalks I walked when I was a boy delivering papers in my neighborhood and the smell of decomposing leaves lying in scattered piles from the wind. The little rivers that ran along the edges of the roadways that made decent places for us to build dams out of sticks, rocks and leaves. All these things rush back from that first wisp of Fall air.

I remember the sand dunes along the flats where the scrub brush grows, the dew soaking my pants as I waded my way through the small brush in search for fresh venison. There was lunch time back at the truck with my dad and my uncles, my eager ears listening in on conversations of those I worshiped. Fresh hot coffee from the old battered thermos and overstuffed sandwiches my mom had packed for our survival preceded the raiding of my uncle’s lunch boxes for cookies and cheese.

The slough behind our school was filled with ducks this time of the year, the long grasses that grew on the banks had turned brown and bent to the overflowing force of rain water. The fields were soggy and cheap sneakers protected little.

Football games began and the local stadium was full of fans, their noses red with cold. My first love and betrayal my first broken heart and losing a friend I thought I had.

Death of a young friend who let the demons convince and the broken soul of a girl who loved him, taught me a hard cold lesson of life.

Finally, love, my true love. I found her in this season and will always remember the smell and feel of the cold air and how the warmth of her lips absorbed me, and the touch of her hand and the comfort of her smile.

Now it’s autumn again and I walk my little girl down the familiar sidewalks and wait for the big yellow bus to come, my mind is filled with all these memories and the anxiousness for the first hard rains to fill the edges of my neighborhood streets with little rivers that we will dam.

Doom Island

The cold morning air nipped at my toes through the old sneakers, kicking up stones from the graveled road, most of the dusts remained asleep in the heavy air. The familiar pot holes were barren of water in these first days of autumn just small craters scattered throughout my laden path. I rounded the corner of the old road and stopped to drag my feet through the dirt. I awaited my fate. Within minutes that seemed like hours I began to hear the screeches and groans of the beast that was coming for me. As it got closer I could almost hear the voices of the other victims wailing, sometimes laughing and talking as they fell prey to the giant yellow beast. Then it came, pulling up beside me and screeching to a halt, it’s enormous body settling into a stopped position as the flap of it’s gills opened up revealing a set of black stairs with safety yellow painted on their edges. I unwillingly climbed the steel stairway to begin my voyage to Doom Island……

The Dune

I feel the gritty heat under my feet. Each step sends me deep into the coolness of the sandy mountain and my toes rejoice. I fight an uphill battle with my limbs, hands digging in, arms pulling, toes spreading apart and legs lunging forward, my body is tired my heart pounds.

Inch by inch, slipping and sliding and lunging I look around to see my progress and look up to see my goal. The warm coastal breeze licking my face, grains of sand frolicking in the winds play and settling to their new home.

My breath is deep; my heart continues to pound, I know I’m getting closer, I can hear the distant roar of the great waters. I start to feel the coolness of the winds coming off the ocean as I reach the summit.

One last lunge, one last mighty heave and I am there. The rush of sound and winds infiltrate my senses, grains of sand pierce my face as I stand to face my reward. Here I have sacrificed my body but here my eyes will feast on the great dunes beauty.

I walk the top of the large dune to find a patch of beach grass to lie down and rest my body. Feeling the warmth of the sun and the gentle wisps of wind licking my face, my ears tuned into the sounds of the not so distant ocean and the nature that encompasses me, I drift off in dream of a place much like this.