I loved the "Fall Frolic" put on by some dedicated members of our church. The scenery itself made the day. No doubt in my mind that God is an artist in the highest form. There are rivers that meet (someone told me five), and a hill that places you high enough to feel as if you are viewing your magical kingdom. Grassy knoll, blue swift waters and rolling hills in the distance.
There is a camp there in summer and a private school the rest of the year.
Children sled down the hill primed with hay. Their sleds were wide pieces of cardboard that carried them squealing with delight!
A hay ride followed. The wagon was decorated with corn husks, balloons, scarecrows and even a string of pumpkin lights. We went for a giggly bumpy ride and munched on chocolate treats. It seemed as if some of the young boys were more excited about chasing the hay wagon then riding in it! Not that we were hungry, but there were sugar cookies to decorate, faces to be painted, relay races and crafts. All this underneath the bluest of skies, a crisp and sparkly day, the light rustle of red, gold and orange leaves.
The day closed it's eyes slowly during a pot luck dinner in the school/camp dining hall as the river turned to gold and I watched through the silhouette of the gazebo. A day of peace.
