Yeah, yeah, I know the seasons are beginning to change.
The leaves on the trees have wilted, if not actually fallen.
They're beginning to show color and, while it can be beautiful,
it also serves as an alarm, a warning of the colder times to come.
I try to tell myself, as I do every year, that each season
has its own beauties, its own colors. I try to convince myself of that,
even as the bone-chilling cold creeps ever closer.
For now, though, I will enjoy the these berries,
which contrast so beautifully with their leaves,
camouflaging the winter lurking just behind.
4 comments:
Beautiful photos and post, Speedway.
I heard a writer on a podcast recently, speaking about how we live so much of our time in the future and not in the present. I knew what she meant--sometimes it's anticipation, sometimes worry, sometimes dread. Enjoying the berries was her point, of course.
But I've lived in those bone-chilling winters.
Thank you, Petrea. It was a pleasure to see that you visited.
I guess enjoying the berries also should also mean we're aware enough to gather nuts and berries to hold us over the winter.
I try to gather pictures. :-)
I think you've outdone Keats with these photos, Speedway, and he was a man who really knew how to express Autumn:
"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease;
For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells … etc."
Beautiful photos.
Aww, thank you, Dive. It's nice for you to say. And especially nice to think that the pictures made you think of a poem.
I'm just better with colors than I am with words and I appreciate someone who has the words at hand.
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