Autumn skies and nostalgia

As some of you know, I first appeared on the internet years ago with a website called November Sky.

November Sky website updated

That was the first incarnation of my voice on the web. Several years later, I followed that by publishing Autumn Sky Poetry.  I posted a lot of leaf pictures on that site:

What’s up with the sky theme you may ask? Truth is, autumn has always been my favorite season. The cold kills pollen, bugs, and various molds so I can breathe again. When I was a child, we had no allergy medications so I grew up looking forward to the leaves changing and a brisk wind heralding winter.

Autumn Sky Poetry 15, the Art Issue—now live!

What’s not to like about this season? This year, I managed to get outside more than usual, thanks to my homemade depression/anxiety treatment (yeah, having my kid go away to college has been stressful). I’ve been hiking. A LOT. Why? Because this is what I get to see when I go out into the woods:

IMG_2757  IMG_2735

IMG_2744  IMG_2746

Of course, daytime is not the only reason I love autumn. Here’s the best way I could think of to describe dusk when the cold seeps into our lives once again. I wrote this in 2005:

Strange Violet Behind Trees

—after Wolf Kahn

The house hides in dusk’s spangled purples.
It’s hard to see such colors, capricious
tones barely there once night has almost
sucked the light from the forest.
And silhouetted trees rear up
as I walk, interrupt the horizon,
their dry leaves muttering imprecations
in the magenta gleam of twilight.

You have gone and I must be careful:
the path has faded to mere shadow
and I can no longer understand
the exuberance of a leaf twisting
in the breeze. How does autumn tangle
everything so elegantly, as when crimson
replaces the decorous sheen of green?
Such willful ambiguity. I walk steadily.
The soft retreat of chlorophyll asks useless
questions. The mother tree sleeps
and misses the violet whoop of fall,
the overlapping dive of it all.

By now night has stolen
twilight’s indescribable glow.
Our house has quietly slid
into an atmospheric blur.
There is nothing more to see.
My darling, the violet has disappeared
and I’m not yet home but I can still feel
the brittle slump of frost behind the trees.


3 thoughts on “Autumn skies and nostalgia

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