24 Oct 2016 Sights, senses and seasons
by Vivian Lawson Hogue
When the calendar page turns and it is suddenly November, the senses turn, too. For 10 months the lighter side of celebrations included the confetti and fireworks of the New Year, candy and cards for Valentine’s Day, the spring or religious images of St. Patrick’s Day and Easter. Mothers and fathers have their appointed celebratory days, followed by more fireworks for Independence Day, then the somber Memorial Day, then Labor Day.
Suddenly we change to sights and scents with a different essence. I am not the only adult who finds the aroma of pencils, notebook paper and crayons almost as inviting as the cinnamon in an apple pie. As a 6-year-old, I may not have known what school in September was about, but if it involved those smells, it had to be good! September is in an awkward position. Still hot and “mosquitoey,” but holding the promise of the autumnal equinox that brings us the fall season, it can only ask us to be patient about its coming. Hints of tree color can’t wait, though, and we cheer over the smallest changes.
October is celebrated as children under tall oak trees shuffle through and jump into piles of leaves, relishing the final scents of dry, leathery leaves delivered to their noses by cooler air. Other leaves, unwilling to grow old, keep their faces dabbed with red and orange like the lips and cheeks of a woman who copes with time reluctantly.
In November we notice transitions. The untidy cicadas have abandoned their exact-replica empty shells in odd places. Crickets and grasshoppers travel and chirp slower as they follow their cycle of existence to the end. Bluebirds leave us with the sparrows and starlings that have no useful purpose except for a hawk’s fast-food snack. Children are in their classrooms while many adults are already shopping for two holidays of church, school, family and friend traditions.
In our small town of 9,791 people in 1960, the high school still kept its traditional Thanksgiving Day football games with Morrilton. These games were held in the coldest temperatures of the year, sometimes with falling weather. As a member of the “Wampusettes” drill team, I wore a long, blue corduroy circular skirt that was topped with a sweater with a “WC” chenille patch on front, which drew jokes from a few. Other accessories were homemade pom poms, white gloves, white oxford shoes and bobby socks.
On particularly cold nights we wore multiple layers of socks and a brand new product called “panty hose,” invented in 1959 by a man. He had a great idea, but they did no good on Nov. 24, 1960, when we sat in the Hendrix College stadium for hours in snow, and performed at half-time as well. It was easy to see why the final score was a 0-0 tie. When the final whistle blew, I could barely walk because my feet were painfully cold and numb. Upon arriving home, my feet, now chilled to a light shade of Wampus Cat blue, were soaked in tepid water until they “thawed.” Meanwhile, I listened to the rest of the family enjoying turkey and cornbread dressing. And cranberry sauce. And pumpkin pie. My day of tradition was interrupted, but I stored another memory. Fall seems short in Arkansas, but it is long on soul and substance.
One more month will pass and we will add another birthday, pay taxes again, collect some more memories, be sad, be happy and be grateful. Grateful that we are here to see that new calendar and turn 12 new pages with 365 new gifts of fresh days.
A native of Conway, Vivian Lawson Hogue graduated from the University of Central Arkansas with a degree in art education. A retired teacher, she worked in the Conway School District for 23 years. She is editor of the Faulkner County Historical Society’s semi-annual publication, “Faulkner Facts and Fiddlings.” She can be reached at [email protected].
