Flirting with the last of the sunlight, Autumn let down her leaves so that his gold rays catch the shivers of red in her stems, the last bursts of life. Thus, Auburn was born, a color to remind us that there was life in the papery rasp underfoot.
She didn’t mind the auburn hey, grateful for its protection. Nor did she object to her plain, brownish plumage, a cozy mantle. She only had eyes for were her two hopes. One dark-yellow she nicknamed Aurum, the other off-white, nicknamed Albus. Easter was behind.
I love that sinking feeling that comes with seeing the leaves falling. Death may be unavoidable, but until then life still goes on and Autumn surely knows how to make the most of it.
When I think of Autumn I think of acorns. Of my childhood. I would go with my father and collect them for school. Acorns are symbolic for strength, youthfulness. Acorns are Forever. Happy memories.
He didn’t care that the leaves had turned. All he cared about was his friend, missing. School had started. So he let himself drop among the russet, carmine and maroon leaves, and became one with Autumn.
A game of words to feast one’s senses. Just like the 13th century French word meaning reddish-brown, RUSSET brought us the homely feeling of a COARSE, homespun fabric. Plain, from the back country where rough skinned fruits with a tint of copper grow. Russet apples & pears.
I’ve been day dreaming of Russet pears. Their balmy aroma and textured skin paired with a surprisingly elegant neck. Creamy white flesh, a match for the rusty strikes on their skin. Soft and grainy, like a pear should be. Officially, Golden Russet Bosc. My childhood’s fruit.
I blink the brick wall away, my eyes intent on the piling of russet leaves. Their growing height sets my autumn days on fire. I hide from the gardener. ‘Set them alight today, Miss?’ He doesn’t know. Each evening I frolic in their reddish-brown crackle, a childhood whisper.
Do return for more autumn and dog – related posts. What do YOU like about Autumn?
When I think of sepia, first to spring to mind are treasure family mementos on small squares of paper, with laced edges or the 1930’s “pearl” colored MGM movies. Yet sepia is also one of Autumn’s first gifts.
A sepia painting in Autumn
Fall paints the world with the melancholy of old photos. Mulching leaves underfoot, rimming my shoes with a layer of tears. Smells of earth filled with secrets and the promise of snow to come. A necessity step. I take it and bring thanks.
A Letter from a Squid
I imagine the 19th century seafarers falling overboard, suddenly forced to wrestle a giant squid to save their own life. Having already reached the end of a bitter yarn spun out of mutiny, little pay and, perhaps, lack of shore privileges, the sailor punches and wrestles the best and eventually, defeats it in its own habitat.
I can see the exhausted mariner at the end of the fight, every neuron in his brain demanding oxygen, his own fervor for life pulling him to the surface. Braking the waves, a helpless human again, addicted to oxygen. And perhaps with blue skin. An angry cuttlefish always releases an inky secretion. It was the 19th century painters who realized its chromatic use first. But surely after the seamen.
More autumn colors coming soon… Until then…
“I have a confession to make. I’m not much of a dog lover. I’m more a cat person so I wasn’t sure if I would enjoy As Good As Gold, celebrating dogs. I needn’t have worried. I thoroughly enjoyed this charming collection of verse and as a result of reading it I think I understand dogs so much better.”
Welcome to Christmas Haiku!This December you can enjoy a winter themed haiku each day until Christmas Day. From the 25th of December I will post a super-special series of haiku on a humorous theme. My Christmas prezzie for YOU! Subscribe to my blog (newsletter sign up on the right column or beneath this post) and never miss a haiku with your morning coffee or favorite cuppa! MerryChristmas!
You can enjoy more haiku on this page of my website.