Another American Adventure: leaves are falling

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

leaves are falling

Our little woods has turned into a golden paradise. This is yesterday...

And the same shot (from further back and more sun) this morning ...

Leaves are actively falling, and you can see through the trees now. When my time comes, I want to die like a falling leaf - gently and joyously dancing.

Everywhere you look, the color of the landscape is breathtaking ...

I even love seeing the leaves as they collect on my car windsheild.

1 comment:

beth cioffolettiOctober 12, 2011 at 10:00 AM
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"In those first days, people said, a squirrel could run the long length of Pennsylvania without ever touching the ground. In those first days, the woods were white oak and chestnut, hickory, maple, sycamore, walnut, wild ash, wild plum, and white pine. The pine grew on the ridgetops where the mountains' lumpy spines stuck up and their skin was thinnest.

"The wilderness was uncanny, unknown. Benjamin Franklin had already invented his stove in Philadelphia by 1753, and Thomas Jefferson was a schoolboy in Virginia; French soldiers had been living in forts along Lake Erie for two generations. But west of the Alleghenies in western Pennsylvania, there was not even a settlement, not even a cabin. No Indians lived there, or even near there.

"Wild grapevines tangled the treetops and shut out the sun. Few songbirds lived in the deep woods. Bright Carolina parakeets - red, green, and yellow - nested in the dark forest. There were ravens then, too. Woodpeckers rattled the big trees' trunks, ruffed grouse whirred their tail feathers in the fall, and every long once in a while a nervous gang of empty-headed turkeys came hustling and kicking through the leaves - but no one heard any of this, no one at all."

Annie Dillard, An American Childhood.