Glorious and Boisterous

A good friend recently described autumn as "the most glorious, spectacular and boisterous of seasons with its bright colors." It is such an apt description for fall and particularly for October. If October was invited to a social gathering, she would be the much-anticipated guest, the one who lit up the room simply upon her arrival. She would be strikingly beautiful with big, expressive eyes and an exotic name like Scarlet or Goldie. October wouldn't simply slip in the front door; she would "arrive" with all of the flash and excitement one could possibly muster. Hers would be the bright orange ensemble (probably with a cape and a big hat with a feather), with lots of gold bangles and ruby red lipstick. October would be the extrovert in the room, talking loudly, laughing easily, gesturing expansively and hugging generously. The party would come to life, thanks to October's arrival. But, alas, October's gaiety isn't to last. Sooner than we can imagine and certainly sooner than we are ready, October will exit and November -- tall, thin November with his long limbs and beaky nose --will arrive. He will scarcely be noticeable in his nearly monochromatic attire of taupe and dove gray, with an accent or two of charcoal brown and winter white. He might have elbow patches on his tweed jacket, wire-rimmed glasses worn low on his nose and a pipe dangling from the corner of his mouth, blowing narrow streams of gray smoke upward. November will be the guest who will spend more time observing than talking, but when he does talk, everyone will agree that his soft-spoken words are important and worthy of listening. Don't get me wrong. November isn't shy, nor is he arrogant. He displays an air of confidence, quiet and inward strength. No one will jump up and down with excitement when November arrives as they did when October sailed in, but he will make his presence known with time. While October is here, however, I plan to celebrate and have my smart phone in hand everywhere I go so I can attempt to capture as much of her glorious, spectacular and boisterous beauty.  

Recent Weather Was Music to My Senses

The weather appears to finally be catching up with the calendar.  But there was one day recently during a stretch of sunny, unseasonably warm weather when I observed that if the day had been put to music, it would surely have been a Telemann trumpet concerto -- vibrant, bright, spectacular.  It was what I would call the Perfect Autumn Day: sunshine, temps in the 70s, light breeze, everyone wanting to get outside to soak up that oh, so perfect day because we knew in October such days would be numbered.  At Devil's Lake State Park (where Larry and I walk nearly every day), the sun-soaked east bluff boasted brilliant fall color while the west bluff, shrouded in shade, was somewhat more subdued.  The two bluffs seemed to be in competition with each other as to which side could brag about its fall wardrobe the loudest.  The boardwalk was covered in the usual sand, but commingled with acorn fragments, fallen oak leaves, rusty evergreen needles and crunchy maple leaves.  One maple along the boardwalk was an amazing combination of green and mottled yellow and scarlet.  Autumn was displaying her most vivid finery that day and I was fortunate to be there to watch.