It had been seven months since Nina, Susan, and I had taken a walk down by the creek! Mostly because of the unrelenting heat and humidity that descended upon us before summer even began. And avoiding ticks was part of it, too. It was very nice visiting friends outside for a change.
I’ve learned to wait until November for the leaves to start changing their hues. On this day there was still plenty of green left on the trees, but with splotches of fall color here and there.
Not sure how the year-long drought has been affecting the leaves, but the water level in Bolin Creek is very low. Time will tell how long this drought will last. For now, the leaves already fallen looked so pretty floating on the water.
But each leaf too has a hue all its own: one of gold, of blood-red, of the slumbering clouds and the strident sun, purple, violet, lilac, we find it all there. And side by side, hand in hand go the quick, the bright, with the old and sere, just as in our world people go side by side, hand in hand, those who are still young and hopeful and those who are weary and sinking earthwards.
~ Sigbjørn Obstfelder
(Seasons)
To love life, really, must mean caring not only for the garden plot but also the wilderness beyond the fence, beauty and mystery for their own sake, because of how meager a world would be without them.
~ Barbara Kingsolver
(High Tide in Tucson: Essays from Now or Never)
