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Ever vivid are my images of harvest t x [nes in Harvest times meant lovely Indian Summer days, with beautiful bright blue ski€5 and cool mornings and evenings; it meant horseback rides into the mountains where aspen and maples were turning to were still there. heading south, hoping to find a new home before the cold winds of winter stung their wings and halted their flight; it also meant the sound of school bells with groups of excited children--boys with their newly trimmed hair and girls with their curls and on their way to school. the plow and yelling "Giddeup!" to Fan and Gwen, as the Old Sulky turned over the rich brown earth in woodsy smell of pinenuts (gathered by older brothers) As we moved the popper across the stove, i t seemed Harvest time also meant hunting. I remember niy brothers cleaning and oiling their guns, and then cleaning and oiling them again as they anticipated filled their quotas of pheasants and ducks. And in or deer, not only to replenish their larders, but to satisfy their urge for adventure or, in the in- outdoors. 56 |