by
Jean Hughes
September 11, 1995
There is gold out in the hills. Waiting beneath the green is burnished gold of cornstalks, bean leaves and early goldenrods. Nature has raised her baton and gives the downbeat. Gold sways to the music of the first faint jinglings of the sylvan bells that ring through the sassafras. The hills listen, with senses that are their native secret. They know that golden melodies are but the overture to the reds, purples, yellows and oranges in the tunes to come, the harmony of blazing colors, the symphony of the autumn trees.

* * *


In September, the first cool days also give me thoughts of baking. I stir together the beginnings of my family's favorite cornbread and then go out to spend the evening walking.

Sourdough Corn Bread
Place in a large mixing bowl: 1 cup yellow cornmeal and 
  2 cups boiling water.
Blend in and stir thoroughly: 1 cup warm milk, 1 cup flour,
  1 cup cornmeal and 1 t. salt.
Sprinkle over mixture: 1 cup cornmeal.
Cover and let stand in a warm place for 24 hours.
At baking time, add and mix in well: 1 egg, 1/4 cup soft shortening,
  1 t. baking soda and 3/4 cup sugar.
Pour batter into an 8 by 11 inch pan.
Bake at 425 degrees for 25 to 30 minutes.

I step out my door and a thousand beauties bombard me. Butterflies hover over the fields and sweep through the tree tops. I walk through a field of coneflowers and down the path to the creek.

The water moves slowly. Its music is played at a low key, with many pauses between the plinking notes. Schools of minnows flit through the deep pools.

Yellow jewelweeds cover the creek banks. Lavender heal all and pink smartweeds bloom beside the big white jimpson flowers. This is the first time I have found jimpson blossoms here. The plant must have been washed in by a spring flood.

Buckwheat vines wind around the stems of every flower, twining together great mounds of beauty. Golden wingstems sway among the tall pinks.

I lie down on a big rock in the middle of the stream. It is slightly slanted and an ideal place for watching birds, dragonflies and all the other little fliers of summer. There is a waterfall nearby that sings a sweet song.

A frog gives one croak. I strain my eyes to try to find him. He calls several times more, but never from the same spot. Either there are many frogs hidden here, this one is moving constantly, which is unlikely, or this one is a ventriloquist. It is my opinion that vireos can throw their voices, so why not frogs?

A cardinal sings and a cuckoo plays through the tree tops just above me. He "barks" softly, like a seal. Swifts circle round and round, high up in the blue. Owls begin their evening hollering. I could be happy here forever. I love the evening twilight by this stream.

The dogs have been still for about as long as they can stand it. They come to lick my face, urging me to walk some more. Sometimes they nudge me on the arm for the same reason.

To me, border collies are the ideal dogs. They are very loving and protective. They do not chase birds and other wildlife. They do not leave home without me. They lie down quietly, whenever I stop in the woods, and they are intelligent, natural herders.

I begin the walk back home. The lowland meadows are never more beautiful than when they are thick with coneflowers. I squat down until my head is just above the blossoms. It is like swimming in a sea of gold.

I wish you were here to see the entrance to my woods' trail up the hill. It is a mass of gold. I can see the dogs lying like seven black and white stair steps along the small path within the trail. They are waiting for me.

As I begin to climb, I see purple tick trefoil and the delicate lavender of hog peanut blossoms. There is so much beauty beneath September's gold, but it is hidden to all but those who go on foot into wild places.

The birds along the path are singing softly, as they usually do at end of day.

My Life's Companion
       There could be life without one touch of color.
       There could be life without one sound of song.
       And I could live my life without one joy.
       But love that started life was gaily sown.
       And beauty will not let my heart alone.
Copyright 1995, Jean Hughes.

Jean's book of ramblings and recipes "A Country Mile of Winter" and her book of poetry "The Earth's My Home" are available for $4.95 each plus $1.30 for postage and handling. Her nature letter "Diary of a Back Yard Naturalist", published 5 times yearly, is available for $12.50 per year. Ten of Jean's favorite recipes will be included free with each book or nature letter ordered. Order from...

Country Mile Publications
616 E. Monroe St.
Delphi, Indiana 46923

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