<body><div><figure><img src="https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?type=thumbnail_580x000&amp;url=1ovNJm_0wATa9jU00" alt="https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?url=1ovNJm_0wATa9jU00" width="1136" height="852" ></figure>Autumn is my favorite season for many reasons. After a long, hot, summer of pulling weeds, watering gardens, and picking and processing harvests, it’s nice to kick back and enjoy what remains of blooms and fruits. Lazy buzzing bees and floating butterflies sipping end of season nectar add music and dance to the ambience. More than anything is the knowledge that brilliant orange, yellow, and scarlet leaves will soon fall and with each plop to earth remind me my days are numbered as well. Such knowledge adds urgency to memory making and powerful appreciation for here and now.Last weekend was a full-on face plant into such emotion. For 35 years, our family has joined friends for an annual wild game feed at Cedar Bluff Lake. Place is important. It gained importance as the site of my parents first dates back in the 50s. Decades later it was my husband’s summer office where he protected Kansas resources and saw people at their very best as they enjoyed nature’s bounty and occasionally at their worst when drownings and accidents occurred. Our family swam, fished, and rock hunted at this largest body of water in northwest Kansas. I’ve explored its history and imagined Fremont camping along the Smoky Hill River near what is today Page Creek. Adding these intense reflections to the fact our family is shrinking—grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins have passed--makes gatherings at this familiar site tug heartstrings even more.These wild game feeds play a critical role in treasured reminiscences. We’ve watched dating individuals evolve into long-married couples. We’ve seen one another’s children grow from infants to parents themselves. Now we enjoy laughter and antics of grandkids playing in the same spots their parents did. Over time, we’ve observed one another’s cooking skills refine and develop to the point some have become gourmet cooks. One miracle worker makes duck and twice-baked deer steak melt in our mouths. Another created fish tacos paired with fresh from the garden pico de gallo that rank among the best I’ve eaten. Who can resist bacon wrapped dove breasts? In the past, friends treated attendees to mystery meats that open mouths and minds to delicacies such as bobcat, rattlesnake, and snapping turtle. We’ve learned those curious and patient enough can turn any wild meat into food to tempt the most finicky eater.Eating wild game and sides is the bonus. The relationships these hunters, fisherman, and families have built over decades support them through life’s biggest losses and changes. The kids and grands all sport heads full of hair, unwrinkled skin, and lithe muscles. Those who started this annual gathering, like changing leaves, reveal silver in their hair and beards or a few shiny bald spots. None has dodged smile lines and crow’s feet. As outdoor folk, they move easier than most, but when you look close, you note an accommodation or two as they get on and off the ground. No one complains because each appreciates rising on this side of the grass to enjoy another game feed.What started as a way to empty freezers before the new hunting season began evolved into an autumn tradition that celebrates more than food. The grandkids offer new blood and the hope they continue gathering at Cedar Bluff to celebrate their game harvests and relationships that grew out of a love of nature.</div></body>

Mountain View, CA

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MADORIN: Leaves Keep Turning and Falling

Autumn is my favorite season for many reasons. After a long, hot, summer of pulling weeds, watering gardens, and picking and processing harvests, it’s nice to kick back and enjoy what remains of blooms and fruits. Lazy buzzing bees and floating butterflies sipping end of season nectar add music and dance to the ambience. More than anything is the knowledge that brilliant orange, yellow, and scarlet leaves will soon fall and with each plop to earth remind me my days are numbered as well. Such knowledge adds urgency to memory making and powerful appreciation for here and now.