Chris Hardie

Life is measured by the passage of time and the season of deer hunting gives me plenty of moments to reflect on past memories.

The rhythms of nature may change their tune slightly every year based on the weather, but the songs remain the same.

It was a quiet afternoon with gray skies that threatened rain when I stepped into the Jackson County Poor Farm Cemetery.

It’s as certain as the trees changing colors and the inevitable decline towards winter – the annual invasion of the Asian lady beetles.

I learned a long time ago that we don’t live in a black-and-white world and the choices between right and wrong or good and evil are often veiled in shades of gray – no matter what the political ads say.

I am generally an optimistic fella who sees the H2O in the vessel as half-full most days.

In the middle of one of my ridgetop clearings stands a large shagbark hickory tree that’s nearly 100 feet tall.

It’s apple harvest season with community festivals celebrating the fruit and many commercial orchards open for picking and family fun.

Fall is officially here and farmers will soon be busy bringing in the harvest of corn and soybeans as the growing season comes to an end.

It’s tempting to proclaim the lawn and garden season over as we creep closer to fall, but the work remains even after the growing season ends.