Light in October is different than in June or February. The trees, the fence, the little trailer; they all plead, beg…like me…to hold on to the warmth even after the sun goes down. There’s no need for begging in June – the warmth will hold on. In February, there’s just no point in begging. But in October, in the deep south, leaves are still mostly green, the light is warm in every sense, but after the sun drops below the horizon…
Oak leaf shadows cast onto window shades by the early morning sun. A light breeze created a fantastic shadow dance throughout the morning.
The quality of light is changing, the air smells a little bit like autumn. Hardwoods are still in full-leaf, but they’re getting ready for the changing season. It’s difficult to put a finger on precise changes, but they are coming. Nature’s aromas are different, the air feels different, the light isn’t quite so crisp.
My favorite place is wherever I am…or, most often, someplace else.
Regardless, those places always include green trees, water, moderately warm temperatures, and frequently – adult beverages.
But, like me, the forest desperately
Clings to an ambience of summer.
The brisk morning air sent a shiver through their limbs and set a small stand of old philosophers to speculating about the approaching season.
“It can’t be good.”
“It could be bad.”
“Good or bad, it will come.”