"Echoes of Eden" Dayle King Searle

They say there are no atheists in foxholes. I have never been in a foxhole, but I have stood on the edge of a grave where the body of someone dear is about to be buried. And I have to wonder, are there any atheists at funerals?

     In going through old papers, I came across this essay I wrote years ago. Preston, who in the essay is said to be four-years-old, is now twenty-one. But the phlox plant still grows in my garden. Being the middle of winter, when flower gardens are only memories, it seemed appropriate to share other fond memories as well.

Each year as people speak of their favorite Christmas memories, my mind goes back to a Christmas in the late 1980s when our children were young and our budget tight. About two miles from our home and down a gravel country road, sitting beside our potato cellar were two trailers which housed our workers during the summer. That fall my husband, Ron, was approached by two families who wanted to rent those trailers to live in for the winter. Ron hesitated. The trailers were not normally occupied during the winter, and he wasn’t sure how well the furnaces worked or if they were insulated well enough to provide adequate shelter during our difficult winters. But the two families, who both had just recently come to the area, were so desperate that Ron finally agreed.

There are moments in life that can best be described as “golden.” Times when life feels perfect and all seems as it should be.

           I sprayed my lawn today, so it seemed like the perfect time to repost this article, which first appeared on my blog two years ago.            First let me make it perfectly clear that I love making dandelion chains as much as the next girl, and I've done my share of making a wish before blowing the fluff off a dandelion that has gone to seed. I find dandelions absolutely delightful in the right place. The right place just doesn't happen to be in my lawn.

It’s starting to look like fall. My viburnum has changed from green to red in less than a week, the weather forecast is for cooler weather, and my daughter-in-law said she is starting to look forward to “the holiday season.”                 Most people think “the holiday season” begins the end of October with Halloween, includes Thanksgiving in November, and goes on through December with Christmas and New Years. But here in Shelley, Idaho, the holiday season begins earlier--on the third Saturday of September with Spud Day.

A couple of weeks ago my husband and I spent some time at our cabin in Island Park. I enjoyed seeing the wildflowers on our drive there and around the cabin once we arrived, but they seemed sparse, and I feared I had missed the peak of the wildflower display this year. Then we decided to take a drive and try to find the trailhead of a hike my husband had heard about. This adventure took us well off the beaten path to a road so remote that the only other people we saw were forest service employees practicing a drill. Along this road the wildflowers were still in their prime. Thank goodness I have a patient husband who dutifully slammed on the brake every time I yelled, "Stop!" Otherwise I wouldn't be able to share this little taste of the beauty we saw.