Autumn Leaves

The abundance of blooming chrysanthemums enticed me. Of course, being only 4 or 5 years old at the time, I couldn't resist picking a few flowers and tucking them into my pockets to surreptitiously sniff them, later. Too bad I forgot about them and mommy found them when I came home. I sure got yelled at!

My mother was confounded at my thievery. Hadn't I been spanked enough for my evil ways? And yet I was still willing to take the chance each time I picked other people's flowers. It seemed logical to me that such abundance was to be shared. Of course, if Mommy had a garden of her own, perhaps I would not have had such urges. But, since I was given the freedom to roam.... well... it just seemed natural to me to help myself. I had no idea what was to follow the blooming of the chrysanthemums. It seemed like the metamorphosis happened overnight.


I walked the length and breadth of the streets marveling at the extraordinary changes taking place. One day the trees were green, the air was humid, and suddenly the next day, the trees were screaming brilliant and the air was brisk with a new warmth and freshness. The fragrance was tantalizing. That first autumn I remember surprised me.


As I walked the sidewalk that magical day the multi-colored leaves deliciously licked my feet as I crunched my way through them. I remember gathering maple, elm, oak, even willow. I knew my trees by name, of course. Only for a moment did I ask myself if this was another form of stealing. But, did the trees belong to individuals? It seemed to me that since they lined the streets on both sides, they belonged to the streets and not to people. Besides, the leaves were already no longer attached to the trees! It seemed the leaves were up for grabs. I often tossed down one pretty captured leaf in exchange for another even lovelier one. My hands were so full of leaf bouquet by the time I returned home, this time, I was sure it was okay to bring this bounty. And for once I was right.


The instant I walked in the door, my mother's shriek was one of delight. She was pleased with what she thought was a gift for her. I immediately went along with that idea. It hadn't occurred to me to offer them to her. But, I was so happy she approved, so relieved I was not in trouble for being a bad, stealing girl that it was easy for me to give up my newly acquired treasures.


Mommy laid each leaf out on the table, then mysteriously began to slip each one into a book, to save them, she said. Imagine my disappointment with the next stage the trees exhibited... the skeletal barrenness preceding winter. 

Winter Warnings

 .

 

once verdant and plush,

once brilliant...

like red and amber jewels,

blessing with visions of warmth,

these harbingers of winter

hang listlessly now,

ready to fall

to their earthly graves.

Photo Friday

I was raised in Niagara Falls, New York... the honeymoon city. A definite change of the seasons can be observed, and autumn was my favorite. We used to collect the best specimens close them into a book to flatten and dry them, and slip them into a pot of paraffin wax to preserve them. That way we could have autumn all winter. But, they did make a splendid display when thrown into the fireplace on a cold winter evening. One at a time, of course.

Now I live 3,000 miles away on the coast of California, near the Monterey Bay. Autumn here is a plethora of seasonal incongruities.The lemon tree in my back yard is dripping with fruit. Lemonade anyone?

Due to the lack of sugar maples, oaks and other kinds of deciduous trees that require very low temperatures this time of year, the bright flaming colors of autumn change from a verdant green to brown overnight, sometimes remaining on the bows through winter. Then other trees, like the California Oak and the Red Madrone keep their leaves all year round. the only brightly colored leaves I can observe, are on display in stores. Buy now, before winter gets here! Only 25% off!!!

Palm trees are much more abundant in Southern California, but they still manage to survive further north. They get a little ragged this time of year, but they do not drop their leaves... er, fronds? As the years go by the lowest level of fronds will dry out and lay down upon the trunk. If they are not trimmed. They can get many layers of dead fronds which harbor hosts of birds and their ecosystems. This picture shows a close up of a palm tree with it's fruit, or I should say nuts, as they fall on the ground like acorns and have the same nutty hard appearance as acorns. In the springtime, the tree flowers heavily, but are not noticed unless you look "between the lines".

It doesn't rain all summer long, so things can get pretty dry, fields and hillsides all appear to be a gold velvet if observed from a distance, if you are further inland. However since I am coastal, there is usually sufficient moisture in the fog to keep things a bit greener locally. Still, compared to some coastal areas, we cannot keep our yards or gardens green without watering through the summer unless we have native plants growing. At this time of year I am able to have autumn Japanese chrysanthemums as well as spring bulbs beginning to pop up. Definitely not autumn in New York.

We just had our very first, and early, rain of the season. The fall of 1980 I moved here and was surprised when I went down to the beach the day after a storm.


All the branches and logs that had dried, broken or burned from up in the mountains the summer before had washed down the creeks and rivers ending up out in the ocean and then were washed back to shore.


I expected to see driftwood, but not mountains of it! And I never expected to see the primeval drive of the human need to create something out of it all.


I've seen drawings of the Native Americans who once lived in this region. Their wickiups (homes) strongly resemble the "art" that today's local California natives create.