Autumn comes but once a year…

Here’s to the autumn,

the confetti of leaves-

the swoosh of the wind

that swoops ‘round the eaves.

Here’s to the autumn,

the warm pumpkin smell-

the joy of the harvest

that no tongue can tell.

Here’s to the autumn,

the livestock goodbyes;

the prospect of next year

that brightens our eyes.

Here’s to the autumn,

the fresh, crisp, cool air-

the sweetness of laughter

that comes as we share.

Oh here’s to the autumn,

that dear, dear, old friend.

Oh, if I had one wish,

it’d be autumn without end.

Autumn comes early in the high rockies, and leaves just as soon, but it has always been my favorite season (aside from Christmas, which is, as you know, the 5th official season :) ).  

Perhaps it is because I was born in the autumn. Perhaps it is because I became a mother in the autumn. Perhaps it is because I spent a good portion of my adulthood in the most glorious wonderland of autumns—NYC. Whatever the reason, I have come to anticipate and languish the time of year when summer sheds her heat and the crispy evenings come to fruition (though between you and I, at almost 7,000 feet above sea level, the nights are equally crispy year round… ).  

Hiking through an aspen grove the other afternoon left me in awe at the beauty of this world, and of this season.  As the late afternoon sun shone down—the ‘golden hour’, as my daughter calls it—the contrast between the bright yellow leaves and the deep green fir trees was particularly striking. I felt such an awe and appreciation for my Maker. He didn’t have to make it all so beautiful. He could have just stopped things from growing for a time, and let winter set in-as she always does. “Do not let anything into your life that you do not deem to be useful or beautiful” and clearly autumn is both—a brilliant burst of color, just one last time, before the snows come and bring a necessary stillness-a quiet beauty all its’ own. A season to remind us that the tides will soon be changing, and to gather all things in one last time before it begins to change—and the change is vital to bring new life in a coming season.  

This fall has been like many others—starting the school year crowding around the ubiquitous blue velvet sofa, sprawled out for the 3rd time reading aloud ‘Black Beauty’, (“ I hope you will grow up gentle and good, and never learn bad ways” ), the wood stove crackling in the background.  Apple cider in teacups as our “provisions” for  poetry Tuesday, long musical sessions on the piano, violin, and guitar—with some kids pushing the bounds and the seasons, venturing out to play “O, Come All Ye Faithful” (it’s too early guys!!), and pumpkin picking at the Big Red Barn (which, incidentally, brought a sickness into our home that we haven’t recovered from yet—who knew that a sand pit filled with corn kernels and toddlers wasn’t covid friendly…?). 

But in other ways, this fall has been very different, as I anticipate the coming of a new season of my life next autumn.  This year is the start of the last year when all my birds are still in the nest (minus our sweet angel baby up above).  We are deep in the throes of college applications over here at Bluebird Hollow, and I find myself in a unique situation as I similtaneously nurse my youngest, while giving advice on essays for scholarships and the like to my high school senior (who penned the above poem!)—all while homeschooling a slew of birdies in between, AND working on establishing Bluebird Hollow. Pumpkins and Princeton sum up this season of my life very nicely, and so I find myself asking a lot of questions: 

What will next autumn hold?  What will it be like when my oldest leaves the nest?  Will we feel like we can’t have an adventure if EVERYONE isn’t there?  Where did the last 18 years go?  Who is moving my cheese?!  

But even as I ask these questions, I know that my cheese has been preparing to move since the autumn I first fell in love with a chubby, blonde haired, blue eyed baby. God is in charge of all the cheese, and rules all the seasons—whether they be outside or in, and we are privileged to partake in the cheese making process. And so I will take a cue from my favorite season: I will throw out a brilliant burst of color, enjoy this last year, and then look for the beauty and meaning in the seasons to come—be they autumn or adieu, for autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go.           

Here’s to the autumn- the loveliest time of year!

One chicken at a time…

It all begins with a dream…or a chicken-whichever comes first. And so it was with the age old question of whether the chicken or the egg came first. Just to be clear, in our case, it was the chicken.

First came the chickens, then the sheep, then the dairy cow, then the rooster, then the bees, then the orchard, then the garden, then the greenhouse, then the pigs, then the ducks, then the geese, and so on and so forth, until we find ourselves-literally- ‘living the dream’.

“If you build it, they will come” is truly coming to fruition, and here at Bluebird Hollow, we are ecstatic about moving into our second season of sales. We hope you will enjoy following along as we continue to grow and progress on this wonderful journey- building faith, family, and a healthier world, one chicken at a time!

“Your task, to build a better world,” God said.

I answered, “How?

This world is such a large, vast place,

So complicated now.

And I so small and useless am,

There’s nothing I can do.”

But God in all His wisdom said,

“Just build a better you.”