Another photo run...

 

 

A glorious day, again!

 

 

After a morning spent in the Berlin Philharmonic Digital Concert Hall, watching and listening to a most beautiful presentation of Bach's St. Matthew's Passion I had a quick bowl of chicken soup for lunch and was then drawn outside by the sunshine and the geraniums that I have been meaning to bring indoors before we have a frost that decimates the blossoms.

 

Yesterday I raked up all the leaves that had fallen on the front lawn and filled one large bag. 

Then I cut the lawn and everything looked so tidy.  Of course, overnight the tree released another bagful, but that's alright - I take everything in moderation these days so I will work in tandem with the tree and fill my bags in accordance with its whims. 

 

The leaves fall patiently

Nothing remembers or grieves

The river takes to the sea

The yellow drift of leaves

Sara Teasdale

 

If only the river swept away all these leaves that gather on my lawns!!!!!

 

However today was not the day for raking leaves, - I could hear the river calling, - 'everything's golden here, come and see, come and see' - so off I went!

 

And so it was, golden, and very beautiful. 

In places richly bronzed......

and upstream the leaves were light and transparent, and they gleamed against the water below.

The water was quiet and the golden branches bent down to converse with it.

 

John Burrough says 'how beautiful leaves grow old.  How full of light and colour are their last days.

 

I followed the road around the bend,

through the ranches, and along beside the meadows, ringed with the brilliant colours of small shrubs and evergreens at the foot of the mountains - vivid where the sun strikes them, somber where they lie in shade.

 

 

 

I thought how lovely it would be to continue on through to the Ashnola, and see the beautiful waters of the creek as it crashes its way down the mountain, foaming white and green and the

darkest and richest blue.

 

However, I remembered I was alone (although I didn't feel alone) and the road

is winding and twisty, and perhaps

it would be wiser if I turned at the first wide spot in the road.

 

Autumn, the year's last loveliest smile.......William Cullen Bryant

And then there is that gorgeous October moon, at night!

 

The brilliant moon, and all the milky sky......Yeats.