Faithfully Orange

 

 Why is it that this time of year I am oh so fond of the colour orange, but the rest of the year I want it no where near my décor pallet?

For example, today I put so much orange on my porch!  And I’m loving the look.

Doing up the porch for fall is another one of those autumn rituals I wrote about the other day. 

First thing is to remove the evidence of my cruel neglect of the summer flower pots.  Gotta admire the tenacity of their last wheezing-hurrah of blooms and dried out stems, in spite of me.  Let’s say a little thank you and lay them to rest in the back corner of the yard.  In come the mums, big ones this year, and a few other potted plants, all vibrant in orange (and yellow), ready to do their seasonal stint of outdoor beautification. 

A few ceramic pumpkins, also orange, add to the ambiance.  I used to get real ones.  I prefer real ones.  But we have so many squirrels that, in no time at all, my port looks like the scene of a multiple pumpkin homicide.  Not pleasant when the bees find out.

Inside too.  Yes, I got out the whole orange bin marked ‘autumn’.  It’s kind of fun for us that we have a grandkid named Harvest, and that we can find so much stuff with that name on it this time of year.  I think it’s become something of an inside family joke by now.  But fun and fall-ish just the same. 

And yes, there’s lots of orange.

All this, at the end of a busy enough day that included the initiation of the regular Tuesday fetching of the aforementioned, seasonally-named grandkid, and another one with a cool name too, but which does not appear on any of my autumn décor, sadly.

And by this, and other means, I move with joy into the anticipated rhythms of the season, and the different way of life in the city.  Meetings, weekly responsibilities, errands and driving, and the constant triaging of the list of all the good things that give my life meaning in this era of it.

And I sing a song of joy for a good and steady orange life.  And yellow and brown and that deep, deep red, all of which signal this southwestern Ontario native that something beautiful has come around again.

Like it always does.

“Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest.

Sun, moon and stars in their courses above.

Join with all nature in manifold witness,

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.”

And if you know that hymn (Chisholm and Runyan, 1923) you probably just sang it in your head.  And if you don’t, you probably have other ways to anchor yourself in the cycle of seasons, and let it be a good reminder of all there is that can be trusted. 

I hope so.

So much keeps changing.

Some things do not.

That both those statements are true is a good thing.

Wishing you a vibrant, orange Wednesday!