There has been a little feel of fall in the air the last few days. That is a bit unusual here where there isn't a great deal of change in the seasons. For some reason the change of seasons is hard for me, it seems to bring on a depression or sorts. Almost a feeling of nostalgia for something I can't quite put my finger on. I have been doing my best to outrun the depression with exercise and it works pretty well for the most part. The days I start out with some good hard exercise are definitely easier than those I don't.
Fall has long been my favorite season. When I was a kid fall meant the deer hunting season - one of the highlight of the year. All the uncles and cousins would come home for the hunt. When we were too young to hunt we would play deer hunt in the front yard with some of us being hunters and some of us being deer. Certain places were designated at "thicket" and if you were a deer and could make it to the thicket you were safe. I am not sure any of us even knew what a thicket was, only that we had heard our Dads talk about losing a deer when it run into the thicket.
When I was 16 I was able to carry a gun for the first time. I went out with my Dad on opening morning and waited oon a hillside in the cold for the sun to come up. I killed a 4 point buck that morning, one shot to the neck. the next year I went out with my Dad and saw a big ole buck coming up over the hill and I tried to show Dad where it was and he said "Shoot it!" I said "I can't shoot it you shoot it" he said "I can't see it" - it ran over the hill and someone else shot it. That was the last time I carried a gun. I often went out with the guys to hunt but I never carried a gun.
When I was married fall was a time to go out and get wood for the wood burning stove. When we lived at Hall's Crossing on Lake Powell we used to go up to the Bears Ears to get wood. We would always take a bag of fritos and a can of bean dip and a couple of sodas. I loved it up there. When we moved to Page we would go to Utah to get wood with Mom and Dad. Dad never goes to cut wood without a can of vienna sausages and some snack pack pudding. I have lots of good memories - I have had a good life.
Our Non-Genetic Heritage
1 week ago