Autumn Comes To Beppin
It would seem that fate has been smiling upon me of late. As the green days of summer dissolve into the rusty shades of autumn, I feel contented once again. This past summer in Beppin has been incredibly active and successful in fleshing out the natural history wings of the Beppin National Museum. I'm sure Oberschütze Blathers M. Owl will be glad to see the busiest time of the year, in regards to insect collection, behind him and will no doubt enjoy handling less of Beppin's insects as we embark on the cooler months of the year.
It won't be long now before the first snows will be arriving at Beppin's gate, and our fertile lands will be covered with snow for the duration of winter. The sight of which always bring back fond memories of Christmases spent in the old land when this Baron was much younger in age and heart. Snowfilled days of play with warm spicy sweets to look forward to after those homemade soups and stews that mother always seemed to get just right. Ah, yes, those memories were a long time ago now, with most of my family departed of this earth, its the festive season that I spend with my beloved citizens that are now my love and my family.
But I do get ahead of myself. It is only the beginning of October afterall, but as I've beared witness to for much of this year: time gets away more and more quickly. Whilst walking the cobblestone streets of Beppin tonight I noticed some special flowers I'd planted many, many months ago. I'd not realised how long ago it was until today and the idea put me in quite a sombre mood. These once highly prized orange roses had now become just another flowering bush in Beppin's rich flower gardens, adjacent to Beppin Heads. Its odd how some things once so special lose their importance over time, yet others increase more and more.
Once upon a time breeding hybrid flowers was a mark of success, and each treated like the Gold Roses I always wished they would be, but our focus changes. For me it was the friendship of certain Beppians who became incredibly active and passionate in their work... of course I speak of Oberstgruppen-Führer Benedict G. Chicken here, as for many months he was in every possible way my right hand man. The month or two without the presence of such prolific poultry amongst Beppin's citizens has seen a slowing down of sorts, a shift in projects, and working with new perspectives that New Beppian's bring with them when they move here.
As mentioned previously, Gruppenführer Rodeo C. Bull moved away from our fair shores a few days ago, and I eagerly awaited who would be moving in. For a day there was no one, and to be honest, by the following day I'd moved onto more pressing items of business. It wasn't until the following morning when I discovered a new house had been constructed over night. More jarring was that this New Beppian's house was built on the spot of Herr Benedicts own home, which brought to mind many mixed emotions. But I knew I had to let Herr Benedict go, and perhaps this New Beppian's house being built on his previous site would eventually take my mind off his absence. I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling the emptiness in walking by a vacant lot once occupied by a highly valued citizen of your country.
After pausing, I knocked and entered the house of Beppin's newest resident, and was greeted by an almost tearful old friend who's outstretched wings and quivering beak spoke more than words ever could:
The feelings are very, very mutual, Herr Benedict.
Welcome back my dear friend, welcome back.