Over half or more of the trees in our neighborhood are still as green as if it is mid-summer. Some are covered with the colors of autumn. A few others exhibit the outline of naked branches silhouetted against the sky.
The geese have been strangely silent, as if they are confused about whether or not to fly south. There are no thin layers of ice on small ponds. Sometimes the days are November-grey. Other days, the sun shines as though it was early September. After a brief wind last night, the lawns in our neighborhood are free of leaves and are green as if it was mid-summer. Despite little rain since August.
One of my favorite fall images is when leaves fall straight downward around the base of a tree, lying there like a golden pool of light. Such a favorite image it is, that when Clem and I did a presentation on the fall solstice and looked through our published books of poetry - we found three pieces using this imagery!
My favorite, from Waiting for the Heat to Pass, is the following:
silent prayers
leaves of amur maples
their life energy spent
drift to the ground
fade from brilliant reds and oranges
into pools of browns and golds
naked branches stark
in thin November air
they wait in stillness
for the renewing touch
of soft snow filtered
through skeletal forms
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