Fall in the Air?

A late Sunday afternoon walk in the Gardens yesterday. The flowers are taking on an autumnal look with the profusion of orange zinnias, colorful chrysanthemums, purple coneflowers and sunflowers with their dark, protruding centers. The cooler air and crystal skies after rain felt fall-like, too, with the breezes from the north. How refreshing!

The lowering sun beamed hot, though, out of the shade of trees and arbors. Butterflies hovered and bumble bees buzzed over the now-overgrown flowering bushes, sipping nectar and spreading pollen, God's crop dusters.

"Oh, look! A hummingbird!" I exclaimed at sighting the whir of blurred wings on the little bird as it darted among honeysuckles and morning glories. It was gone by the time I got there, just as the fleeting ones glimpsed in my yard have been lately. In their rush, they seem to sense time is flying and summer is ending.

Howard has brought his walking stick, as he calls it. "Are your knees bothering you?" I ask, but he says no, he just likes to walk with it. Actually, it is a stout, hand-carved, cane that usually stands by our fireplace. It is called a story stick, because of the tiny carvings of symbols of Bible stories that cover it. Noah's ark is there, Jonah's whale stands out in bas relief, and a dozen other vignettes run down its length.

"You know, I still don't know what some of these pictures mean," Howard says as he lays the cane across his lap when we stop to sit in the shade of a gazebo. We run our fingers over the numbers 2 and 5, beside a loaf and fish, and easily recognize that one, as well as a tomb with a door and stone beside it. One was mystifying--a stone with a zig-zag on it like a lightning bolt. (The sheet of paper with the key to each symbol has been lost.) Thinking about it later, I wondered if it was the rock that Moses was instructed to strike to get water for the children of Israel--the one he struck twice in disobedience that brought punishment.

In the fifteen years since I was given the story stick by a minister's wife (it was carved by a missionary who sold them for $100 each), I have answered many questions and had the chance to share many Bible stories with my grandchildren who are curious about the images.

Once, a six-year-old granddaughter asked what the open book carved into it was. I told her it was the Book of Life, where names of people who love Jesus have been written. "Is your name there?" she asked. When I told her it was, she said, "Well, I want my name there," giving me the opportunity to lead her in asking Jesus into her heart!

We finished our walk, picking up a few fat acorns (I didn't know a tree I thought was holly had acorns!) and interesting seed balls from a cypress (they have designs on them!). We will place the story stick back by the fireplace, which before long will be a warm gathering place and a perfect spot for a story!