October 2021 - By a Pond

Autumn is a second Spring, when every leaf is a flower.

- Albert Camus

I am sitting on a bench overlooking a small duck pond, which is currently divested of its few waddling inhabitants, as it is late afternoon and they know by habit that if they wander over to a certain house in the neighborhood about this time they are ensured a hearty dinner.  This sun in bright and mellow, "the maturing sun," Keats called it, and that seems to describe it perfectly today, it is not exuberant, but constant.   Above me is a canopy of brilliant orange, made even more intense by the sunlight, and just across the street is a row a  gold.

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As long as autumn lasts, I shall not have hands, canvas, and colors
enough to paint the beautiful things I see.

- Vincent van Gogh

Four young ginkgo (Ginkgo biloba) trees, resplendent in drooping branches of brilliant yellow leaves stand there, to walk beneath them is to enter a great hall of golden arches, with a golden carpet underfoot.  I've always loved ginkgo trees.  I love their tenacity and longevity even in harsh environs, their legendary benefits for the mind and memory are fascinating, and their graceful, almost willow-like branches, which earned them the common name "maidenhair tree," are stunning.    But I think my favorite thing about them is the curious fact that these leaves must not be harvested while green and thriving, as one might expect, but now, in all their golden glory, just as they fall from the tree. 

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Lo! I am come to autumn / When all the leaves are gold...

- G. K. Chesterton, Gold Leaves

Along the tops of all the yellow trees,
The golden-yellow trees, the sunshine lies;

- George MacDonald, Autumn's Gold

I cannot resist gathering up a great armful of these brilliant leaves and tossing them into the air to watch them tumble down.  This cheerful little thoughtful spot is chilly but bright on this glorious, final shout of color day.  What a perfect ending to autumn.