Rhythm of Fall | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Rhythm of Fall | Previous Challenge Entry
By Laury Hubrich
09/19/07
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Rural Illinois is full of activity this time of year. Trucks and tractors with wagons chock-full of corn and beans wander at their own slow, lumbering pace down the once all but abandoned country roads. Lonely country elevators are again thriving places of business. Bins stand tall and proud against the bright blue harvest sky, their only job, to store grain from nearby fields. The sound of the dryer is heard during the day amid the clank and clatter of harvest sounds and at night is a constant drone lulling all to sleep.

This new season of fall sears me with its boldness whether I sit or stand outside, whether I am in the car or merely looking out the window. New sights and sounds invade my senses rendering me useless to all but staring wide-eyed at God’s creation.

Hanging clothes out to dry in the cool, crisp air, I forget the task at hand and stand in the middle of my yard and take in all that is around me. Nearby I hear the plunk of overripe pears falling from the tree and I’m glad I’m not standing under the soft, squishy missiles. Owls hoot from hidden places and the sounds of crickets and frogs mix together noisily.

The gentle breeze chills me one second and the next second the bright sun warms me. This battle between summer and winter is played out to perfection but I know which will win out over time. While I hug myself to keep warm my attention is drawn to the birds as they soundlessly fly above my head and land on trees filled with soon-to-be colorful leaves; limbs swaying in the wind.

The horizon is nothing but fields: dry fields of corn and beans as far as I can see. Stalks slap against each other which adds to the rhythm of this glorious, wonderful fall. The sound is quickly drowned out as a combine with its diesel engine ambles down the field of corn and back up again, devouring all in its path and reminding me of a roaring lion pouncing greedily on its prey.

Snapped from my musings, I notice the damp clothes hanging limply on the line with the rest bunched together in the basket so I finish my chore then go inside. The beauty of fall is forgotten. Taking its place is the chaos of an active house: lunch to make and kids needing help with homework. Time for daydreaming is gone.

Later in the evening, as I take clothes off the line, I spot deer running through the newly cut field. They appear to be well-fed, showing both timidity and confidence as they graze. Sensing my presence, their ears perk up and they stop to stare and of course I do the same. The deer wait for me to move first and I stand there, motionless, not wanting to break the spell. Close enough to see their eyes; they look at me, unblinking. They soon realize I’m harmless and the small herd turns away, loping back through the field, white bobbed tails bouncing. In their wake I hear the snap of the downed stalks as the deer trample their way to places unknown…

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