Autumn's annual color show is pretty much over for another year. Here along my hundred-yard portion of the river, where the dominating tree species are sycamore, hackberry, and box elder, fall never quite manages to put on that quintessential eye-catching seasonal performance. None of those expected Technicolor scenes characterized by patchwork forests, thick with various bright maples, and invariably favored by calendar publishers.
Oh, there are a few willows and a walnut here and there to light things up with their snazzy yellows. But no blood-red swamp maples or festive-orange sassafras. The closest these corridor woodlands come to such vibrant hues are the scarlet twinnings of woodbine and the gaudy flames of poison ivy. Plus way too much invasive honeysuckle, which—at best—dons a sickly and pale yellow-green.
Instead of dazzle my home-turf trees deal in subtlety. Especially the sycamores, who often decide to retain their oversized leaves for a few more weeks. You have to adjust your eye and your thinking to fully appreciate their richness. 
But in earliest soft glimmer of morning, with a backlight assist from the sun, or some blue sky for background—even simply floating atop the water—they are, unquestionably, beautiful.
Who says brown is boring!
10 comments:
Here we are a blaze of spring colour in the garden, although with the very dry weather the surrounding paddocks are from silver to varying shades of brown as hay is cut and grasses dry off.
Hi Grizz - it is good to "see" you - I have been wonderin' how you are. I am ok - still finding my new rhythm - some days I am more in tune than others.
The color brown gets a bad rap for sure - when Iwas a little girl, aroind 7 or 8 or 9 we used to shop t Robert Hall for school clothes - and the section for the heavy set kids was called "chubbette" - can you even imagine? And so many of the clothing choices were in various shades of brown ugh... and thats my memory of 'browns'
Hope you are well.
Love Gail
peace......
Penny…
For sure a different world and a different season "down under." Here the leaves have turned, blazed brightly, and are now mostly on the ground. The show is over for another year. After an unusually dry summer and early fall, we had a day of rain last week, though not enough to do more than discolor the river a bit and raise its water level a few inches for a day or so. While some days are warm and sunny, others are cloudy and cool, the nights cold. The woodstove is back in fairly regular use. But I like this time of year…the ragged, untidy look of the landscape and brisk and moody weather. Colors are subtle, but there, and it's a fine time to be afield.
Gail…
I'm fine, still just working every single day on the house, frantically trying to finish up all the kitchen before Thanksgiving. And it's going to be close since I have to remodel around my regular writing work assignments—columns, etc. We've been getting up at 5:00 a.m. and going to bed by 9:30 p.m. Astonishing! And we're making progress—just not as fast as I'd like. Ahh, well.…
Can't believe Robert Hall would have called their clothing selections for heavier-set youngsters the "chubbette section!" How awful! That sounds almost worse than "fat kid clothes." There was a Robert Hall store here in town, though way out in the 'burbs several miles from the main shopping area downtown. We never went there, though my cousin's husband was the store manager. We were always dedicated Sears people, or Sears & Roebuck as everyone still called them back then. They had a big three-story store in the downtown heart, which we often visited on Saturday mornings, and of course their huge catalogues which went out several time per year. I'd guess about 90 % of every stitch of closing I wore until I was in my early teens—from socks to underwear, shirts, jeans, dress pants, jackets, coats, gloves—came from Sears, along with about half my shoes and boots. I did get some outdoor clothing from Herter's, the famous old sporting goods catalogue place out in Waseca, MN. But Sears was mostly the place, for everything—clothing, tools, toys, etc. I even bought a guitar and amp from them—their top-of-the-line model which they sold under the Silvertone branding, but was really a Harmony instrument. A really nice guitar, too, quite a bit cheaper if bought through Sears, though as it turned out, after an order mix-up and return, the second guitar I received came straight from the Harmony factory, was several models above the one I'd been able to afford, and carried their branding, not that of Sears's "Silvertone." When we took it back to the store and told them of their mistake, the guy behind the order desk simply pushed it back my way and said, forget it—keep it and enjoy. Which I surely did.
hi again - glad you are well and able to be busy with your remodeling projects. We are packinng for the move upstate NY, well, Skipp is the packer and I am the list maker and organizer. Overwhelming doesn't even begin to describe the challenge, especially given my weakened condition and recovery needs. Oh my...... I am coming along slowly and trying to surrender to my reality, not give in to fear and keep pushing for a stronger me. Quite an endeavor.
Love Gail
peace.....
Gail…
I'm sure packing everything, and getting set to move both belongings and life to another state and an unfamiliar place, must be nearly overwhelming. But stay strong and positive. You'll get through this, come out the other side, and find joy and adventure in ways you can't now imagine. I really believe that. Life is what you make of it, Gail…a questions of choices and attitude. You maybe didn't have as much say in the where and why of having to make this move, but what you make of it from here on out is entirely your choice, under your control. There are bound to be fears and frustrations, but they'll pass. Look them in the eye, deal with whatever you can…then move on. Don't let circumstance define your attitude. If there's any one thing I know about you it's that you are are woman of depth and character and strength, with a zest for life and a heart which delights in loving and sharing. As such, you're invincible! So cry, cuss, rant, wail, do whatever. Show your teeth and bite someone if necessary. Then get past it, pick yourself up, wipe your nose and eyes, and settle in to the move and your new home with the decisive, overwhelming, positive power of Sherman's March to the Sea!
Oh Grizz - yes!! I am, I will, I must, and so it is. Your words shout truth. mine, yours. and I am inspired to believe - have hope and a zest for adventure. Amen
I love all of you
Gail
peace.....
Gail…
You're welcome. Now keep the faith and have fun!
Jim - You have captured the beauty of these photos with the word "subtle" ... it is very restful to look at and yet vibrant. Kudos to you and your camera! (Would look good in a CALENDAR!.)
Sounds like you are going to get done on time ... I imagine the favorable temps have aided your progress a lot.
Today, I attended the Kirking of the Tartans at Trinity Episcopal Church in Troy. I love the music they played and have gone for two years in a row now.
Share your no-doubt voluminous store of information of what you know about the kirking if you have time, OK?
I know I can look it up, but it won't be as uniquely colorful as your raconteur version!!
Later,
Merlinmomcat
Moonmuser…
I know that "kirk" is an old Scottish word for church—once mainly applied to the Church of Scotland, but even now used in regards to any of the modern Scottish Presbyterian denominations. The Kirking of the Tartans harkens back to a time when the English tried to force the Highlanders into assimilation by forbidding them to wear their tartans or play the bagpipes. It didn't work, of course…the Scots wore tartans in secret, played their bagpipes anyway, and thumbed these noses at such a silly and spiteful law—and the whole distasteful business was repealed after a few years. The Kirking of the Tartans ceremony, I believe, celebrates that repealing—the "churching" of their beloved plaid patterns. I've never been to one of the ceremonies, though.
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