25. KEPLER STATE PARK ( IOWA), USA

On a lovely evening in Marion, IA, my son suddenly remembered, “Oh! Autumn is setting in so fast. The colours must have changed in the Kepler. You must see the place before you return to India.”  And we spontaneously hopped into the car and drove down to this beautiful attraction of nature’s bounty in the Linn County.

Kepler State Park is at a distance of about 15 miles from Marion/ Cedar Rapids and it took us about 20 minutes to reach there.  Located on the banks of river Cedar, it is a wonderful jungle retreat. 




Driving through the winding roads after we entered the park, we were   mesmerised by the natural beauty of the place. The tall trees lining  the  sides of the road, the river flowing quietly, the deep ravines, the blue sky and the setting sun, everything added to the mysterious aura of the world which was slowly opening itself to us and kept us enthralled for the next few hours.
                          
                                 
The atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. On one side, there were tall trees with exotic colours and on the other side, were mountains with the sun hurrying to go and hide behind them.

The park is spread over a huge area of app 840 acres. There are picnic spots, the benches and the grills for the picnickers in the park. There are 44 camping sites with 26 of them having electrical hook-ups.  There are fishing facilities and there are family cottages which are well equipped and one can book them for a great family holiday.  The park also has miles and miles of walking trails which we could not enjoy due to shortage of time available with us. There is rich wildlife too. We did see some rabbits, a couple of deer and many colourful, chirping and singing birds.

The rocks on the banks of Cedar River have fossils which are millions of years old.  The park is thus not only rich in flora and fauna but is also the custodian of history.

Apart from this out of this world atmosphere, what really fascinated me was a very old couple on one of the picnic benches with a nicely packed food hamper in front of them. Seated peacefully and enjoying the scenic beauty and nibbling at their dinner, they were so much at peace with themselves that it was a real treat to watch them.

Another very heartening incident that took place was about a young lady who was driving past on the road. Seeing us struggling with our camera to take a photo so that all of us could fit into it, she simply stopped her car and came to us, “May I help you to take the photo? It is always nice if someone else does it for you.” Saying this, she took the camera from our hands and asked us to pose while she took one picture after the other. And I will admit honestly that those are the best pictures of our visit to the Kepler Park that evening. Thank you young lady! I don’t even know your name, but how sweet of you to have stopped the car and come and take our photos.

Honestly, despite the riot of colours, the autumn had not fully set in the park. But one could hear its footsteps trudging in loud and clear. Soon all the leaves will change colours and will look simply exotic.  

The sun was setting, but we did not want to leave the place.

As we continued sitting and soaking in the tranquility and beauty of nature, I remembered a poem "An Ode to Autumn" by John Keats which I had read long back in school.

By jogging my memory a great deal, I could recall some parts of the poem while others kept eluding me. So the first thing, I did after reaching home, was to 'Google' it. 

I am giving the full poem below for those of you who may have read it but might not remember all the words, just like me. 

AN ODE TO AUTUMN
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.



Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, - 
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.”

                                     ---John Keats

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