The Song of My Soul

Thoughts On Paper

How to Have a Perfect Autumn Harvest


You just feel it in your bones when you wake up in the morning.

It's just the most perfect day to harvest the garden.

You stand outside in the morning sun, greeting the day with a cup of tea.

You're wearing a sweater but, oh, you know it will be off soon and your skin will be soaking up the sun.

Your hair is a messy knot on your head from sleep and sister's laughter at it can't be equaled.

But first, breakfast. And the muffins don't really taste like Peanut Butter Oatmeal and the eggs have a little too many red pepper flakes in them, but your tea is still warm and it's just the right kind of day to be home with your sister.

You swipe some music and listen to your brother's Spotify playlists on shuffle.

Take pictures.

You laugh.

You work those arm muscles within an inch of their strength.

You soak up the sun because maybe this is the last day you'll have of it.

You decorate your yard, your house, your front door, your mailbox, with the fruit of your labor.

And most of all, you're just so happy to be home. To be here. Because maybe in another life you wouldn't have had this. ALL this.

Because maybe there's not anything even just a little bit better than living right here. With this sister. In this home, with this prairie, in this life all around you.

Because maybe even though it's just so ordinary, quite possibly the most boring ordinary there is, it's just plain extraordinary.

Kayla Updike