Listen Closely....

Did you HEAR that? Listen closely…hear it? It is just a whisper, listen again…. there! It whispered again. That is the quiet change of the season, from a hot dry summer into a cooler than normal fall and rain! It doesn’t quite happen fast, it just hits you one day when you are out just as the sun goes down.

A cool nip in the air, the smell of dampness, a breeze that says “I came from the North Pacific” and the smell of wood smoke in the air. The hum of chainsaws far into the woods, echoing out into civilization; all foretell the coming of autumn.

As I was coming out of Rite Aid last evening I noticed that at 7:45, the sky was getting darker, the Sun was just going down, and there was a different slant to the light. It seemed to be coming sideways through the atmosphere, and the sun was peeking out from under the few clouds that were coming in from the West. There was a Mauve, purple, lavender color to the evening, and people were wearing their sweatshirts and jackets. There was a busy bustle of people running into Safeway and Rite Aid picking up those last minute school supplies and lunch items. School starts tomorrow.

It is kind of sad to see the school bus stops in front of the farm houses going into disrepair. These bus stop shelters were usually built by the Father for his young children. They would head out down the lane to the bus stop in the dark, and huddle in the little shelter where they would leave their flashlight when the bus came to pick them up. The once fresh coats of paint, have all faded and chipped off , and the Blackberries have covered the building with their vines. The act of Nature taking over the rotting wood and disseminating it into the particles that help feed the plants. The children have all graduated and gone on their own way, and the bus stops are no longer needed. You can tell which farms are still owned by the original families as the stops are falling apart. Occasionally you will see that one has been renewed, and there is a tiny little boy or girl standing in front of the bus stop with their shiny new lunch boxes, or backpacks, and their new shoes and clothes on. These are the Grandchildren of the farmer who originally built the shelter, and his Son has taken over the farm, and has repainted the shelter for them.

I have often wished that the wood in these old shelters could tell us what they have seen and heard in them. The initials of a first crush carved into the side wall, the tears of a lost love fallen on the old floor, the excitement of the first day of school each year, and the loneliness the shelter felt when those same children have graduated and no longer use the bus stop. I drive by one of these shelters every day, and I know the families that used to use it. The roof has fallen in on it, and the blackberries have covered it. It is very hard to see now, and soon the last voices of those children that have been implanted into the cells of the decaying wood, will be released into the air with a whisper…right there…did you hear it? SIGH!