Autumn ( Archived) (13)

It’s mid November, but a first arrived today when true autumn shows what a magnificent painted canvas only a magical day of this season can display.
Vivaldi knew what he was composing, as he sat in front of an empty sheet penning Concerto No 3 on top of the paper.

The giant elm outside my window moves in the invisible breeze. A wind which toys with branches stripped naked of all but the odd little leaf not yet taken the drop to the ground. One moment it is as if it’s caressed by the movement of air, it sways, then a slight stop, and another kind of touch, as if puffs tickle to provoke motion.
A magpie nest rests abandoned on one edge of its crown, a clique of house sparrows on the other end enjoying the slow rocking ride on a twig.

It’s a bright blue Cirrus cloud sky, with a tad of golden gifted from the sun, soon about to set.

I was on a walk under this heaven earlier today, big leaves in self-gathered clusters as I walked down the sidewalks. Maple leaves size of a palm, flew and landed from over the other side of the road where the majestic maples are stood, they must have.

Looking towards them, it’s a color feast for your eyes, shades of yellow and red, from Yellowhammer golden, Gamboge and Cadmium, to the red of scarlet, lust-filled lips, and towards Alizarin.

I continued my walk.

Suddenly, I was at a scene, as in a film. The wind was having a dance with an empty plastic bag. Funny moments present themselves when least you expect it.
The bag seemed to want release from the dance, while the wind would tease it. Pick it up and fly it through space, then let it go, then catch it again in its soft arms, just about when you would think an escape had been successful.

It was flying about, caught my eye, doing the moves in the air, it was fascinating to watch, somewhat beautiful to watch, something you can not, not watch, I was stood there fixed, could not move, could not let my eyes off it.

But it was a piece of litter wich I know I should toss in the bin then move on to other views, next scene. Somehow it reminded me of a couple relationships of past. When I was struck by beauty, but stuck in a moment I knew I should really bin.

No regrets

Autumn is for locking yourself up with your beloved, walk up to her where she is sat in the couch, sit behind her, with your left leg along the side of her left, and your right leg along the side of her right leg, your chest against her back, your arms around her, her hands in your hands, resting on her lap, and you warm her with a sigh of bliss into her ear.

Autumn is for turning up an old 1950’s slow tune and invite her to a private dance in your own living room

Autumn is for wild love-making to the theme of heavy rain and thunder heard from outside

Autumn is when a Scandinavian dusk is about. Magenta breaks into the blue of sky, her silhouette against the kitchen window, an image to inspire a song.

The elm sways, and dusk moves near.
It's autumn in Gothenburg.

Autumn aways remind me on this:

......holding hend in hend, sliding legs through leaves, …...

Under an oak, picking up fallen acorns, stealing some from the squirrel on the branch.

Or picking up leafs with diferent shapes and emaising colours

Well, now can I breath--your word's make the old feel young and the young feel like flying--
Ah painter's dream.

Autumn reminds me of home more than any other season...a pot of beans baking in the ground, the leaves turning, the nip in the air of impending winter...raking leaves with dad and my sisters, then all of us jumping in them...apple cider, fires in the fireplace, maple candy...the ocean, grey and cold, as the waves whip into the rocks on the Atlantic coast, alone on the beach with my thoughts.

"The sun will come up tomorrow...bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun..."

sorry...first thing that came to mind after reading the gloom...