7.10.09
Autumn has Arrived
The leaves begin to turn yellow and red, and on a hazy day, a golden shimmer lies over the woods. We've had the first autumn gale that sent the leaves dancing and the crows swirling towards the town with angry croaks. Mists veil the valleys in the morning, and the air smells of wet leaves and coming frost.
Woods at the Weser
It is my favourite time of the year. Somehow I always wax a lot more poetic when describing fall than spring. Maybe it's the gentle melancholy of this time that responds to my mood, the muted light and warm colours.
I just realised when looking through the archives that I wrote an autumn post every year. Blame it on the ton of autumn photos I have. Or on my sentimental side; whatever you want.
A hidden lake
Of course there are other days, too, days of what one website called Varus weather. Torrential rains and icy blasts that make the ground slippery and bend the branches. Days where you want to stay inside with a cup of hot tea and listen to the rain drops singing on the window panes. ¶ 6:11 PM
The leaves begin to turn yellow and red, and on a hazy day, a golden shimmer lies over the woods. We've had the first autumn gale that sent the leaves dancing and the crows swirling towards the town with angry croaks. Mists veil the valleys in the morning, and the air smells of wet leaves and coming frost.
It is my favourite time of the year. Somehow I always wax a lot more poetic when describing fall than spring. Maybe it's the gentle melancholy of this time that responds to my mood, the muted light and warm colours.
I just realised when looking through the archives that I wrote an autumn post every year. Blame it on the ton of autumn photos I have. Or on my sentimental side; whatever you want.
Of course there are other days, too, days of what one website called Varus weather. Torrential rains and icy blasts that make the ground slippery and bend the branches. Days where you want to stay inside with a cup of hot tea and listen to the rain drops singing on the window panes. ¶ 6:11 PM
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Autumn is a time of reflecting on the past year and what may arrive when spring, around the corner, comes forth again.
Your photos are excellent, especially the lane with the dusty motes in the sunbeam.
Your photos are excellent, especially the lane with the dusty motes in the sunbeam.
Wonderful! We had one of those days of icy blasts when the shutters beat against the windows. First go out and let the wind fill your lungs and scrimmage with it a bit. Then off to hot tea within a windowed gazebo.
Thank you, Barbara. A 19th century poet said autumn is the time of letter writing, but who writes letters in the time of Twitter chirping? ;)
HI crazyred, welcome to my blog and thank you for your kind words. No mystical sword in that lake ... but wait, there could be, right? Damn plotbunnies. :)
Thank you, Alianore.
Hi Montag, nice to see you on my blog. Yes, coming in to a fire and hot tea after being out in a storm is really nice.
Carla, thank you.
HI crazyred, welcome to my blog and thank you for your kind words. No mystical sword in that lake ... but wait, there could be, right? Damn plotbunnies. :)
Thank you, Alianore.
Hi Montag, nice to see you on my blog. Yes, coming in to a fire and hot tea after being out in a storm is really nice.
Carla, thank you.
I don't blame you for wanting to write an autumn post every year - it's a wonderful time and just right for taking photos. Those are some beautiful places in your pics.
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