Leaves are rustling. Crickets humming. It's September. One of my favorite times of year.
I'm not quite sure why.
It's the last of the warm days...the beginning of cool breezes and crisp mornings.
It's the culmination of summer harvest...apples and pears ripening.
I love red bins dispersed among through the orchards, bin-liners flapping in the breeze, the hum of tractors, a pear for breakfast.
My family isn't in the business. We do small-scale tomato farming at best. But the orchards are in away a very real part of life. They're the indicators of the season - apart of our valley's identity.
More than this, they are reminders to me even when life gets crazy of peace that my God gives.
From my perch above these blanketing orchards, I sing, "This is my story this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long."