There is no time to take a walk like the fall.  Having said that, I suppose I could end this post now, but let me divulge in some of the blessings only fall can bring.

            There is a beauty to the autumn sky that can be found no other place, in no other way.  It is crisp, cool, and free of the humidity that clouds views too precious not be unveiled. Colors explode, and especially while driving with polarized lenses, the contrast of the blaze of oranges and yellows, sometimes reds, against the greens of pines and deciduous trees not yet prompted to change yet dazzles me.  A bursting of what the eyes can contains matches the heart, when the full palette of color spectrum pigment is disposable by God’s great artistic mastery.

            There are smells that only fall time knows.  Pumpkin, spice, the scent of dampened leaves coating the forest floor with a tablecloth, one in which can be walked upon silently without spooking wildlife. Once dried it becomes impossible, as every crunch reminds the steps that the season has truly changed, and the wind whisps the colored, tissue papered prints around the landscape I choose to breathe in.  

            I order a latte, pumpkin spice of course, on route to a favorite hiking destination.  I sip it hot while I drive there.  It sparks a certain place inside.  Nostalgia. Tradition.  A special sense of reasoning awakes me.  The lull of autumn starts to wrap me warm and tuck me in before winter approaches.  I will bathe myself with the fall glow while it lasts.  I will soak it in.

            We arrive at our favorite location.  Kids jump out.  My wife and I look around.  Unsure if I should snap photographs to relive the day or put the camera down and fully engage myself with it, I combine both thoughts and shoulder the bag; I may use it later.

            We walk the trail that leads to the edge of the world, or so I think. Countless times before I have walked it, yet the same anticipation proceeds me.  I look for the clearing, it eludes me.  Bend after bend I walk, the sights and sounds of nature are everywhere. 

            Finally, the endless arms holding boughs of bright colors begin to break up, I see an opening to the sky.  The ledge that marks the limit’s end, the boundary, the border; no man shall take a step further, for the earth gives way to a deep and profound canyon.  It is one that mesmerizes me.  I cannot fully take it in.

            There is no time to take a walk like the fall.

            I’m reminded of this, illustrated in my first book, The Convergence, right before Weston sees something that changes his life forever.

            It was now late October.  Although Weston found himself living in a town far enough south not to ever feel the dread of northern ice and snow, there still was a chill to the air.  The Appalachia trail of rolling hills and valleys was now becoming a beautiful display of the color spectrum God’s creation could produce. Reds and oranges boasted proudly their colors, as leaves held on tight for a few more of the beautiful Indian summer evenings this side of the world had been fortunate enough to own.  Weston thought of the times that he would hike those trails, the ones that led deep enough into the unknown that only experienced hikers would travel.  He remembered how Brooklyn would be beside him, backpack stuffed with essentials, water, and a camera.  Those were such amazing days.  He wished to relive them again, and couldn’t help but visualize the highlights of many trips taken together.

            Wes had decided to make a drive through these hills to enjoy the day and see the foliage while he could.  There were not going to be many days like this left, and so he chose to drop the top of his convertible and put on an extra layer of clothing, so to feel the fresh fall air through his hair one last time.  He drove the highway that wound through the mountains, making oddly tight turns to avoid going up such steep slopes, passing truck runaway ramps.  Now and then he would glance up to see the blue, crisp autumn sky.  These bright amazing days made him think of Brooke, for that is how she always appeared to him.  He wished Brooke could see this.  She loved the fall.  She would have loved to take this drive with him.  

            The transmission of the little car dropped into a lower gear and the engine revved higher as the grade began to steepen.  He knew this hill well.  It was one of those highway climbs that you best pay attention to, as steep grade and dangerous curve signs marked both sides of the road. Supposing the little convertible to be as the likes of a Nascar racer, a man searching for escape hugged the corners tight as he continued the wooded scenic highway, taking in as much as he could. 

Just like Weston, God can do amazing things when we get out into the world he created for us. We can shut off electronics, the news, media, and escape into a quiet place where God has our full attention. Though Weston was troubled inside, wanting to know answers, trying to figure out life, there was a certain peace that God ushered him into once Weston stood where God's power and creativity could be seen.

            If you can, try to get out in the next few weeks.  Enjoy the natural world that God made for you and I to refresh ourselves in.  The Lord has made seasons for us to enjoy, spring, summer, fall, and winter.  Though we may have favorites, when he created things the way he did, he stepped back, and said it was good.  Today, I just want to challenge you to get out and breathe it. Be where God's still and small voice can whisper to you. Enjoy creation. Be still, and know he is God.

By Chuck Carr

Excerpt from The Convergence was taken from Chapter 13. The book can be found and purchased in ebook and paperback here. The Convergence.