Yesterday when I was home, with the afternoons becoming shorter and the air turning cooler as soon as the sun's angle begins to drop lower on the horizon, I retreated to my sitting room and went through emails and paid bills, later to read some story that takes place in a warmer climate while trying to not think about winter's gray finger pulling constantly at the sun. But the river does not let me sit forever. Soon she winks at me through the windows. She giggles when the sunshine tickles her back and I have to put down my laptop and head outside with my camera. This is a good thing, because I would have missed this if I ignored the flirtation. The dance of river and light is just too seductive. (Yes, this belongs on my other blog but there is a canoe trip going on there.)
So I put on my outdoor shoes and close off my email and go outside to smile for a while.
The sunlight bounces right off the top of the river into my eyes with fire. It bathes the pomegranate, now as high at the second story bedroom window and devoid of its red fruit, into the most stunning "lime" light. In the distance with trees throwing off leaves I can see my neighbors house once again.
Then what should happen but this morning while hubby left early to test his guns at the neighbors field, I was called again to my back yard to see what gifts Mother Earth left me to cheer me up against the shorter days.
These leaves are the exact color they were hanging above my head. No hue or saturation adjustment as Mother Nature has an excellent palette. Is is not a wonder that winter comes as such a shock to the soul?