Friday, September 23, 2011


MerryBelle, Mac and I had a breathtaking walk this afternoon.  The sky was semi-overcast, with intermittent showers, complemented by bursts of sun through lofty clouds from time to afternoon that spoke of the onset of autumn, for sure, and one that was defined by colors of fall's palate.

**Before I go further, I need to back up just a bit. In the last two weeks, a series of life's reality checks have gripped my heart.. Two of my former students, ages 42 and 30, passed away, one from an advanced malignancy that was an unanticipated discovery and the other from a sudden heart attack; a colleague for whom I have a world of respect has entered the last phase of his life, and my mentor and friend, Brian Dendle, suffered a heart attack - his second. Subsequently, there have been moments in the last 14 days when I found it difficult to access sustained joy.  I suppose that's natural; I've been a bit stunned.

Until today, I hadn't allowed my saddness to work its way to the surface, but as I wept on my way home from the funeral home, my heart opened once again to acceptance of the current and impending loss I feel. I have to remind myself that I always feel better after a good cry, for once I let go the tears flow, I feel so, so much lighter, more guided by perspective, and hugely more grateful for so many blessings in my life.**

Now, back to the story at hand....As the two rambunctious canines and I  made our way back into the field, I was struck, as I am every year,  by the predominance of  "yellow" everywhere. Unmown fields produce scads of goldenrod. Yellow leaves are beginning to blanket the earth, and my yellow dahlias are spectacular. There's even a fairy ring of yellow-capped mushrooms underneath the pine tree in the side yard.

Here are a few of the pics that best convey the ochres, butterscothes, light pastels, and combinations of fall' s yellow mixed with other colors.

If I could paint, I'd give this image a shot at incarnating on my canvas.  The picture doesn't do it justice. As I looked to the other side of the back field from the lower path , I had to hold the camera up over the tallest of the goldenrod to take the shot. This was the result, and in its simplicity, there is something I love. The clouds took my breath. (Imagine the goldenrod ten times as bright as the photo conveys.)

This, and the dahlia below, have just come into their own.  For some reason, my dahlias always bloom later than most people's. I didn't realize I had set out two yellow ones side by side, but their hues are different, as is their blossom structure. The tighter dahlia above looks like it would taste like a mixture of butterscotch and cinnamon.  The one below displays a greater delicateness.

I'm sure the rain of the last two days inspired the ring of fungi to break through the ground. The tops look like a lemon cookie with crushed almonds, but I don't think I'll be tasting one, that's for sure.
Graceful and content, Kwan Yin loves to be surrounded by varigated coleus.. This afternoon's light cast the perfect shadow to coordinate with the plants and her orb.

Happy Equniox...Balance, equilibrium, and prosperity in body, mind and spirit...and the opportunity to get outside and enjoy this special time of year....My wishes for all.....


AthensRomantic said...

As always, Tanya, your words - whether spoken or written - leave me feeling blessed and content. Your photos in this post are particularly splendid. I mourn with you the crossings and share your concern for the two nearing theirs.
I love and miss you and send you thoughts of peace and prosperity. Happy belated Equinox.

Teena Lurlene said...

Thank you for taking me on this bittersweet journey...amazing dahlias by the way! xoj

Cpyles said...

Your photos are beautiful....