A Last Day in November

Everyone is talking about the warm winter ahead, how nice not to have a terror of cold days. Well, I find it one more stamp of global warming/climate change, and I think it is scary at best. I will admit it has been a gorgeous autumn thus far and a welcomed reward for enduring the inferno of the last two summers. We had to take a road trip across the state line for in-law business, and traveling on a warm fall day made it more pleasant.

There is something about those days after Thanksgiving and before Christmas that are special in so many ways. November and December bring on nostalgic thoughts and a super awareness of how time flies. The mind floats backwards easily recalling earlier days. The earth is visibly shutting down into moratorium mode. Bright colors are gone but various earthy shades of browns are abundant. I stood on a hill and snapped pictures north of my little hometown, but the camera fails to capture the expanse of horizon seen when the trees are bare. The Divine Presence is made known by the vastness of both sky and land meeting in the distant vista.

Roughly five miles northwest of town, the Neosho River meanders through an area where Presbyterians once tried to convert Osages to Christianity. Eventually, the effort failed only to be taken up later by the Catholics about ten miles to the east. I would love to step back in time for one hour and visit this part of the country then. The Osage were more of an Eastern tribe but were pushed and pushed into the Midwest as we know it. It was the Black Dog band of Osage who lived near my town and farm boys often talked of finding arrowheads and spear points as they tilled or walked the land.

The day was long but our town was having art walk in the evening. With a most perfect evening, I went despite being tired. Our town is known for its fall Midwest Gathering of Artists which relies heavily on western art. Now artists of all kinds are popping up. A walk around the town square showed many stores hosting potters, jewelry arts, watercolor, photography, and one gal had both books and paintings. I was excited to see a dab of written arts…maybe this will catch on and writers will be included more. Some host stores had barbershop quartets, guitar strummers, or piano players as well. There snacks, wines, and punches. With the town decorated for the holidays…it was festive!

 

One of the newest artists in town is Alice Lynn Greenwood. Her paintings are bright and colorful. They deal with sayings and wit as much as scenes. I particular liked this piece warning readers not to take women lightly! For more of Alice's work, see her at www.alicelynn.com.

But like all little Dorothys from Kansas, after treading the yellow brick road and seeing the bright lights, there was “no place like home”.