The green summer grass has gone golden with a plentitude of mostly yellow fallen leaves. My flowers have all surrendered to seed. Still, for me, autumn holds a precious promise; I gather the flower remnants the birds have not appropriated. With cautious optimism, I have the expectation my seed stash will bring beauty and joy again next spring through summer.

There is such peace in seeing how a tiny seed can develop into such a pretty posey. Flowers seem to just "know" how to grow, with perfect timing and stunning splendor. I call this process "soul-satiation." Yet another one of nature's generous gifts that deliver year after year.

It wasn't always this way for me. When our five kids were young, there were no flowers to tend, no seeds to gather. I owned a spatula instead of a spade, and a red wooden wagon in place of a wheelbarrow. My poultry scissors were later substituted by pruning shears. I was a busy mom with more laundry than could be strung on a mile-long clothesline. Daily I saluted my crockpot, which allowed me to "cook" dinner while driving our daughters to dance and sons to softball. When we finally arrived at home, I would take a quick glance behind me, half expecting my car to follow us into the house. Dare I admit that when we sat down at the dinner table, I instinctively reached down to buckle my seatbelt? Oh, what a ride we had. How did all those years speed by so fast?

These days, people often ask, "How did you survive raising five children?" I shrug my shoulders, fearful of telling the brutal truth: cream-filled doughnuts and coffee were my salvation. While some drivers have a spare tire in the trunk, I had a spare pillow in the back of my suburban. My kids knew that their driver was always on the ready--in those days before the advent of cell phones, they wished for a doorbell on the car door so they could awaken me to drive them home. This mamma was one worn out woman!

While I can't recall the exact moment I untied my apron strings and traded in my oven mitts for garden gloves, I continue to embrace the serendipitous spontaneity of playing in my garden by moonlight. I sleep in (simply because I CAN!) then savor my morning coffee with surround-sound audio, care of our rooster, Mr. FancyPants, and our menagerie of 14 hens and 5 ducks.

I should mention another of the newfound joys inherent in being an empty nester: I get to travel to destinations much more exciting than the market, music lessons, pharmacy, and pediatrician! As a matter of fact, I write this blog post while on a cross-country flight bound for Seattle. Why specifically Seattle? Here's the best answer ever: our first-born and his wife are expecting their first-born!

Is there a term for goose-bumps that have lasted for nine long months?

We are finally on the home stretch here! As we near our Seattle destination and this post reaches cessation, I must share one last bit. While riding to the airport, the driver feared we were running late, and complained, "these school buses stop and wait at every single driveway." I mused aloud that those exhausted moms may desperately crave the adult conversation they find with their children's bus driver. Then came the words that innocently inspired this blog: "I was THAT mom!"