November 3, 2013 – PRIEST - KY
Oh the glorious glorious joy that comes with the sun! And all gloominess, and all the menacing dark clouds and the bitter wind and cold are finally behind us. It is hard to imagine a more lovelier, or a more glorious morning than this sun-filled clear morning of beginning of November.
I woke up this morning at our camp site with the sound of something soothing, and mellow; like a clicking of a gentle wind on the roof of our Gypsy Caravan. It wasn't the sound of rain, or the familiar anxious sound of bird's hops—a leaping kind of a dance on tin roof. It was something else... I opened up my eyes and listen... listen to the sound, but couldn't identified it.
Moments later I went outside... the sound! They were autumn leaves! And so I stood there; eyes fixated on such wonderful shower of leaves... heart swirling and dancing inside my chest.... leaves in all the color of autumn falling every so gentle, and magical from the canopy of trees under which our trailer rested through the night. I had never experienced that while camping, or hear the music of autumnal leaves before, because up North in our territory, campgrounds are usually closed for the winter season this time of year. But this is here. And this is lovely November, and the leaves on the trees are mellow and still drifting down on soft green ground. And it felt wonderful—the thought of being gifted with time; extra time to enjoy this wonderful world; free of the imprisonment of winter. How special!
NASHVILLE – TN: People are terrible drivers on these parts of the state. I mean they have statistics on fatalities right on road signs along the freeway. A lot. I mean, a lot of dead on these roads. We were commenting on this strangeness, when all of suddenly a car going on high speed crossed in front of us right at the moment when we were changing lines... thankfully, my husband was able to maneuver our truck, and everything was fine.
We didn't say much after that. Just a silent prayer of thanksgivings and adoration.
Thanks goodness... we're almost home.