My grandfather, a Missouri farmer, always greeted spring with open arms. For him, it was a welcome change from the winter season of splitting firewood, donning heavy coats and mittens. It was when his Percheron draft mares brought forth their foals and fillies. It was a time to prepare the soil for planting the spring crops. The work was hard and slow, much of which fell on the shoulders of hobos during the Great Depression.
Tanglewood Farm, the name given his 1200 acres, was located a mile north of the Missouri Pacific Railroad where Rucker siding was home to empty rail cars, a coal tipple, livestock corrals, and loading chutes. It was where hobos left the train and headed for Tanglewood in search of springtime plowing and planting.
And then he greeted autumn with its distinctive scent in the same way he had greeted spring.
Some think that those exciting days of autumn can be experienced only down on the farm. Not so. City dwellers can experience it through an aura of trees that are preparIng for winter, and by the approach of Halloween, by golden corn stalks, straw bales, pumpkins, candied apples, and autumn leaves.
Indeed, autumn is a time for great joy, a time to take pleasure in God’s bounty.