Tuesday, August 29, 2023

Creepers, Clouds and Early Light

No doubt about it, colors in the landscape are turning toward autumn. Where vibrant greens reigned in the hedgerows and woods only a few days ago, tattered beiges, creams and greys are coming into view. Here and there are swaths of gold, crimson, rust and copper, alluring splashes of purple, indigo and burgundy.

There is a different slant to light filtering through trees in the park, and on morning walks, their shadows fall across our path, as sharp as knives. Sunbeams spark off wet grasses along the way, and every puddle is a sea of light.

Around the corner, five bright fingers of Virginia creeper rest on the dew-spattered hood of a parked car like a mandala, like an open, beckoning hand. The vehicle's polished surface holds clouds and sky too, and the tableau stops us right in our tracks.

Such fragrances at this time of year, ripening crabapples, aromatic leaves and wild herbs going to seed, nuts, berries, acorns and the occasional chestnut (or conker). On the trail, I pick up a ripe walnut and breathe in its fine, astringent perfume. My little tally of wonders wild and natural grows longer with every passing day, a splendid litany for this precious interval as one season dances into another.

1 comment:

Dee said...

Your words capture the changing of the season beautifully. I look forward to your posts every day, but especially this time of year, when they mirror my own love of autumn. Thank you