Column: It’s my hap-happiest time of the year

I enjoy so much about autumn — the crispness of the air, open windows, the sounds of a chainsaw and the smell of sawdust, morning coffee by an outdoor fire, sweatshirts and capris, watching harvest, rainy days, college football, the availability of the movie “Hocus Pocus” on television, the excitement of a surprise early dusting of snow, marching bands. I could go on, but suffice it to say, this is my favorite time of year.

Growing up in Clarinda, October meant the Southwest Iowa Band Jamboree. Bands from across Iowa, Missouri, Nebraska and Kansas converged on our little town for a day-long event that included a mile-long parade route of several thousand junior high and high school students in uniforms, strutting their stuff as they advanced down Main Street, as well as all the pageantry of a field competition which often included a college band or two.

I’m the daughter of a band geek (circa mid-1950s to early 60s) who was involved in the inaugural Clarinda Band Day 61 years ago as a seventh grader. Once out of school, mom even provided radio commentary of the parade from 1964-1968 on KMA radio — or as my grandma called it, “May’s Radio,” founded by Earl May (yes, that Earl May).

There was such excitement as the buses would begin arriving at the high school shortly after dawn.

Most years we would start the day enjoying the pancake breakfast provided by the Lions Club under the canopy of the local Ford dealer. There’s nothing like trying to shove sticky, syrupy fingers inside a pair of mittens after eating pancakes — I’m talking from experience as a kid and a parent. Then we’d work our way to the town square, lined with lawn chairs and blankets, and try to find the perfect location to position ourselves for the parade. I may not have been in band myself, but I was schooled in critiquing them — the lines, the carriage, the angles, the spacing, both the musical and visual performances.

There’s just nothing in the world like a good drum cadence to make me think of fall.

But I digress.

I also like the last hurrah my grass seems to take this time of year. Lawns are green again, free of dandelions, and seem so clean and plush right after they’re mowed. That is until the leaves drop. When we had kids at home, aka free labor, we used to rake them all up. Now we just keep the lawn short enough so when the leaves do end up in the yard, the wind will eventually blow them out to the pasture. (We’ve learned to choose our battles.)

Even the thought of the impending winter months can’t squelch my fondness of the season.

However there is one thing about autumn I’ll always despise ... those dreaded words “that’s it for our garden tomatoes.”

Contact Dana King at dking@shawmedia.com