An Exercise in Autumn
Tuesday, November 3, 2009 at 12:40PM 
The wind ruffles my backyard maple trees, still robust with yellow and crimson leaves. The dogwood has gone naked for the season, but the slim pear trees still shine glossy green in the afternoon sun. The hills surrounding the valley where I live have mostly faded to a resigned shade of tea-stained linen, but all is not lost. November is the last month of autumn, but it's not winter yet. Punches of red, gold, and green stand out more sharply against the dark, bare limbs of their neighbors. I'm always pleasantly surprised to see bursts of color and lingering green any time after Halloween. Each year I'm afraid fall will end abruptly once all the candy is handed out.
After the brash, playful gluttony of October, November threatens to feel somber in my mind. But that is all in abstract. In practice, most of November is vivid and jaunty, when everything is still golden-hued and warm enough for a nice afternoon walk wrapped in a cozy jacket. It's also the beginning of the holiday season, and as much I lament Christmas music before the last Thursday in November, the holidays can still thrill me with their sparkle and shine and promises of goodwill.
The changing of the seasons here in the Northeast United States is a blessing, a return to the rhythms of the land in a time when very few of us in this country are connected to the earth in any real, visceral way. Even my civilized house cats don't have to brave the elements anymore. But their animal nature remains.
My little grey cat, a daredevil magician of a feline and weighing all of seven pounds, chatters valiantly at the leaves skittering by on the back deck. She keeps watch from her post atop the seat of a dining room chair, intent on chasing away each intruder as it flitters past. Sometimes a leaf vamps back and forth in front of the glass doors, teasing her, daring her to bat at it, knowing it is safe with the glass wall between them. Actually, the leaf knows nothing but the wind. My brave little cat knows about the glass door, but this does not deter her. She is playing and fighting all at once, no difference between them. The leaves thrill her in a way I can only admire and imagine. While I sit here writing about these things, she is watching and pouncing, living it all.
Reader Comments (6)
Lovely imagery!
Tanner's crawling on the keyboard as I type this :-0
Hugs to you and your furry companions. :-)