Road near Old Scotland Church |
Most people will tell you that spring is their favorite season of the year. I guess that I’m different in many respects because I love the time of the year when the Indian summer appears on the scene.
Call it what you may, but when the air begins to get cool and the dry winds rustle the brown leaves in the big hickory and oak trees, this is the time when I get the urge to drop everything and become a vagabond.
The desire to wander becomes so strong until I have trouble trying to cope with business at hand.
To enter the deep woods and listen to the rustling of the dry leaves and watch Mother Nature prepare herself for the coming of the winter months is the highlight of the year for me.
To travel down a little-used country road and see the fall colors being painted across the countryside by the Master Painter himself is breathtaking. To watch the sun come up in the morning and the first rays tenderly seek their way through the golden leaves, as through trying not to disturb a single one, is beauty in its grandest form.
And, as you continue down one of these beautiful old roads that can be found almost anywhere in the county, you approach the shady spots and the air is cool, almost to the point of being cold.
Then you enter the places where old Sol’s rays are not restricted by the overhead branches, the temperature makes an abrupt change and you find yourself perspiring from the warm sun. This causes you to hurry, seeking the cooler shady spots.
As the day slowly passes into the evening, you stop beneath a large hickory tree for a few minutes’ rest.
Life’s like the sun
Looking up through the golden brown leaves of the hickory tree and watching the silver rays gradually withdraw themselves from the branches bring to mind that life itself is a lot like the shining rays of the sun.
The sun comes slowly at first: then, there is the morning or youth; then the middle of the day, or adulthood. Then, as the shadows lengthen into old age, are the golden years: the memories of the past experiences, plus descent of the hill that leads to the Everlasting, the beautiful sunset, and HIM who shall judge all.
(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)
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