Jack of Harts

I grew up on baking autumn afternoons with ice cold drinks in my hands. I loved watching the leaves turn red, yellow, and orange as the land prepared for winter snows. I saw squirrels gathering nuts and bears gorging themselves on berries before the cold came. I hunted deer, and sometimes wolves when the season was right. I remember the smells of freshly harvested fields, and the sight of tractors rolling down the roads. We gave thanks for good harvests and God’s blessings, and we played trick or treat while wearing elaborate costumes. We danced around bonfires late into the night as we celebrated the end of the hottest days of the year. It was an amazing way to grow up, close to the land and the seasons. It was heaven.