Autumn Days

 

 

We’ve had the strangest year of weather ever, that I can remember. Spring was disappointing but summer was worse, with so much rain and cold days, not to mention dark ones. So autumn moseyed on in with a very different kind of season than what we had last year. Not only did our poplar trees lose their leaves while green in summer, the other falling leaves from our scads of deciduous trees have dropped insignificant leaves of faded colors. The stunning contrast we enjoyed so much last year from our many deep red almost purple trees next to the strongest yellow gold leaves mixed together delicately in a certain section of our garden, was hardly a fraction of its former glory. But at least it wasn’t just shades of beige leaves, as in other parts of the yard.

So I was able to capture that one spot where the combination of the trees overhead spices up the dull mixtures so prevalent elsewhere. But let me assure the reader that this dim combo is half of last year’s bounty.

But there’s still time I suppose for the quickening chilly evenings to magnify the colors of the leaves. Last year our roses turned the color of lobster bisque and this year they’re pretty but mostly white now. But we still have time left for further enhancement. At least I’m hoping that a last minute cold snap will put us over the line, although I’m certainly not counting on it. My expectations after these last two seasons has dropped considerably even though our fall is a little nicer than what preceded it.

We have had some sharp sunny days with blue skies amidst the gray days of gloom and doom that are so dark it’s like nighttime in the daytime. 

Being such an avid weather reactionary myself doesn’t make my life easier in these weird weathered times. John goes into a complete slump when it’s cold and I barely get dressed if we must light the fire in the morning to prevent ourselves from turning blue. Both of us get rather grumpy and lazy on those occasions but the moment the sun glints out from under the black clouds we’re off and running around outside gleefully. There’s a man in Canada who’s building a log cabin house and developing the site with other buildings, rain or shine, snow or sunshine. He’s out there alone dragging gigantic logs around by himself and somehow figuring out how to lift them, strip them of bark, cut them to size and then put them where he wants them. His dog keeps him company. He is a marvel to watch. There are people who are so determined that they will move heaven and earth to accomplish certain meaningful projects. God bless them. I’ll sit here by the warmth of the firelight and turn on my computer to see how he’s progressing today. When I’m done I’ll sweep the pathways of the leaves that have dropped since I started writing this blog. Wish me luck. I’d be lost without my trusty broom.  I can pretend it’s a big, heavy log, like the pine tree outside that snapped off in a windstorm and is still sitting on the top of the shed roof behind it. Even John doesn’t want to tackle that job of removing that tree trunk, but then the farmer said he'll get around to it. They lost over a hundred trees in that maelstrom. Hmm. It’ll probably be there for quite a while. 

Oh well. There are worse crimes than procrastination. I just can’t think of any right this minute.