Catch a Falling Leaf

Catch a Falling Leaf

Comments 0 Comment

On a walk this afternoon I spent more time than I intended trying to photograph leaves in flight. So many of them are swirling around that it seems I should be able to capture at least one or two mid-journey.

But either the light isn’t right, or they’re eddying about frantically rather than gently floating to the earth. Just as often, I spy the perfect slow-descending leaf but by the time I pull out my camera, it’s too late.

It’s a delicate business, like capturing a single snowflake or the down of a thistle. Perhaps it’s best left to chance.

Trick or Treat?

Trick or Treat?

Comments 0 Comment

The candy bowl will be full when little ghosts and goblins stop by tonight … if they stop by. The number of trick-or-treaters waxes and wanes depending upon weather, the age of neighboring kids, and the timing of the neighborhood Halloween party.

This year, that was held last Sunday. Long enough ago that the treats distributed might have already been consumed. Long enough ago that they’ll need replenishing.

Let’s hope they will. I would hate to have to eat them myself.

Just a Bit

Just a Bit

Comments 0 Comment

A class assignment has me remembering the trip I took to Bangladesh in August 2017. For more than two weeks I traveled around the country interviewing people, soaking up the atmosphere — and sometimes the mud, too. It was just an introduction to this marvelous country but I was so impressed.

I met men who were trafficked and returned home to start a business — so they wouldn’t be tempted to leave the country for work again. A woman who became a leader in her community, sharing new agricultural techniques, helping her family and her village improve their standard of living. People who had lost homes in a cyclone and were rebuilding the mangrove forests that protected them from tidal surges.

Everywhere we went — and we covered much of the country — there were people making the most of challenging circumstances. They were a resilient bunch, philosophical and open-hearted.

Now I want to share just a bit of what I learned. The “just a bit” … that’s the challenge.

Celebrating Chocolate!

Celebrating Chocolate!

Comments 0 Comment

Luckily, I heard it was National Chocolate Day before yesterday ended. But I didn’t hear about it before writing yesterday’s post. So this tribute is one day late — but just as fervent.

As it turns out, it was the radio that gave me the news. I was on my way home from the grocery store — with five dark chocolate bars and three bags of chocolate Halloween candy (in case there are leftovers).

Chocolate: where do I start? That it makes every day a little bit better. That it is a tonic, an anti-depressive, a panacea. That it is the perfect mingling of sweetness and fullness on the tongue.

Luckily, I had some of my current favorites on hand to celebrate last night, a knock-off brand of M&M’s. Which means I consumed chocolate with a thin candy shell, perfect for portion control. Because if there’s one thing I know about chocolate, it’s that you must control it … or it will control you.

Counterclockwise

Counterclockwise

Comments 2 comments

When I reached the loop trail yesterday, I went right instead of left. I thought I would walk farther, cross the road, stride all the way to the end. But that proved impractical. No matter, though. I had set the course. I would be walking counterclockwise. Everyone I passed was going the other way.

It felt fresher than I thought it would, fleshing out the flip side of a familiar trail. The low light touched the treetops in new ways. The path curved in all the wrong places. The woods spread out on either side, limitless in their lack of familiarity.

Why don’t I do this more often, choose the road less traveled? Is it habit, or a need to keep one way fresh? The second one, I think. So next time, it will be clockwise again.

Beside the Point

Beside the Point

Comments 0 Comment

I remember an acquaintance years ago, a fellow journalist, who laughed about how he was working his way down the masthead. He had been the editor of a magazine I once wrote for, but that magazine folded, as beautiful magazines inevitably do. He did well for himself later, but there was some irony in his career progression.

I don’t have quite the same story, but I find it amusing that I once wrote for pay, and now I pay to write. Not always, only when I write academic papers. And I don’t pay much. The classes are made possible by a tuition benefit that’s made possible by an editorial job I held for ten years.

Less irony, then, but the point is similar. For many who do what I do, the money and the position don’t matter. It’s the writing itself. Look at it on paper, examine the bottom line, and it makes no sense. But that’s beside the point.

Long Shadows

Long Shadows

Comments 0 Comment

Yesterday’s walk was exquisite: bright sun, temperature in the 70s, leaves a perfect mix of green and gold with an occasional orange or russet in the mix. I found myself looking up most of the time.

I also noticed more shade than usual. At first I thought it was further proof of tree maturity, how the oaks and poplars bend toward each other, making a tunnel above the road. But a closer look showed me that tree tunnels weren’t creating this extra shade, it was individual trees casting long shadows.

This might seem a “duh” observation. It’s that time of year, after all. The light is lowering; shadows are lengthening. What struck me yesterday, though, is how nature makes dying beautiful. Because these mellow October afternoons don’t fool me for a minute. I know where they’re taking us. But maybe, just maybe, that isn’t such a bad place after all.

Breakfast of Champions

Breakfast of Champions

Comments 0 Comment

Already afternoon and no post! It’s as good a time as any, then, to write about granola.

I do as little cooking as possible these days, preferring to make large quantities of something and consume it for days. Granola fits that bill. A sweet-and-savory delight — made from a recipe supplied by my sister-in-law — this concoction has become my breakfast yogurt complement of choice.

It includes generous quantities of oats, coconut, seeds, nuts and dried fruit bound together by equal measures of olive oil and maple syrup. It seems to hit all the right taste bud notes.

Even though I skipped it today — I have to ration myself — it’s good to know it will be waiting tomorrow. After all, it’s the breakfast of champions … or something like that.

Creeper

Creeper

Comments 0 Comment

The backyard is taking on an autumnal tone. Yesterday while bouncing on the trampoline, I spied traces of unexpected color in the shiny green hollies. At first I thought the lowering sun was playing tricks on my eyes, lighting up the trees from within.

Then I clambered down and inspected more closely. It was the Virginia creeper, lowly vine, thought a weed by some but looking its spiffiest this time of year.

How the yellows and oranges teased out the grandeur of those prickly bushes, made them shine. One of autumn’s many surprises, and a welcome one.

Early Snow

Early Snow

Comments 0 Comment

In the mountains where we hiked two months ago, snow has been falling. The San Juan peaks are now white-capped. Ski season opens tomorrow in some locales.

Here, leaves are just starting to turn, but in Colorado, winter has arrived. Wolf Creek Pass, pictured above in mid-August, may receive 40 inches of snow from the storm that’s still pummeling the southwest part of the state.

It’s the flip-side of all that mountain beauty. The high altitudes are the first to catch the white stuff. If I lived there, I’d have to adjust. Take up skiing, at least the cross-county kind.

Instead, I’m here in this green-and-orange cocoon, trying to imagine these peaks in winter white.