Last night, I took a glass of wine and sat out under the trellis in the courtyard, listening to the neighborhood’s pair of turtle-doves call. They stated their love for each other over and over. “Yes, the light has morphed,” I thought. The vines tumbling over the wall were lit up from within, a golden x-ray that I could almost pull at like taffy between my fingers. I picked up my cell phone, then put it down. “Don’t fiddle,” I told myself. “There is plenty to see here. Plenty to keep me occupied.” Habits…I gave me head a sharp shake as if to let them go.
As I reached towards my glass, I saw that two leaves had fallen, just so, as if I had placed them prettily under my sluice of red. “These autumn leaves…” I hummed a little Nat King Cole merrily to myself… “beneath my window…” even if it is a wistful song. For Summer is solid in France, a yearly right of passage or a coda, something earned the rest of the year. And yet Remi and I had given ours over entirely to working in this new house, then moving, an investment in our future. Neither of us saw the time passing but it has and I am relieved.
For now, so much has been shed, just like blooms that had once triumphed brightly and yet are no longer useful. The boxes have been unpacked and stacked and in the middle of the night when I had to find my way down to the kitchen in the dark, I knew the way.
As I looked up at the sunset’s scrawling across the crowds, I sipped slowly and let my shoulders drop. “Goodbye Summer, you beautiful swanning girl. See you next year…” A light popped on in the kitchen behind me, Remi coming down to watch the evening news on a very important day when an entire government had faded into the past. Yes, change is in the air.
I have always considered Autumn as a second spring because of the beautiful colors, the wam climate, the crisp and golden mornings, laziness, harvest time… I am so thankful to see another Autumn…. Stunning pictures and charming words as always Heather. I will note "Le jardin du quai" among my favourite places. It is so ravishing!
(heating, of course. Not hearting (:
Yes this is again one of those posts…
Thank you once more for another beautiful insight full of melancholic prose. For autumn brings a certain ambigous melancholy.
And with ambigous feelings the german media oberserves the developement of politics in France, hoping that our neighbours decide wisely and our friendship will remain.
Oh by the way, my central hearting is on since August the fifteenth.. (; and thank you again for the wonderful photo of the Chineses Blue Rain.
Yes, we want the link and we want the post! (: Your sister is right!
Heather, your musings are just as beautiful as the garden. I love how by paying attention, you nearly stopped time and could just see the subtle shift between summer and fall. I've noticed some small shifts here, too, and have a feeling that even though the calendar says the season sticks around into September that this will be our last week to revel in summer (which has made me want to slow down and pay more attention to the world around than to my laptop). I'm glad it's been a productive one for you, that change is mostly hiding behind you now, and that ll the possibilities that it drags along with it are what remain. Here's to a beautiful fall! XOXO
Heather, your posts and photos grow more and more beautiful with each successive one. And, please, do tell us more about the Canadian TV interview. Please?
Beautiful post.
Your words are helpful in making it easier to deal with the distraction some cooler weather. I'm not ready for socks and closed toe shoes, long pants and hot toddies. This week is hot. The sun today felt irritated at autumn being too early. Then I think…what do I tell the air conditioner. Balance, sometimes being on the low end of a see saw alone is all right.
Conversely, our winter seems to have upped and left before I was quite finished with it…spring has arrived with much aplomb and serenade in the last couple of weeks…can't ever remember it arriving with such a sense of decidedness….(melbourne is normally maybe, maybe not, just teasing….).
There is so much beauty in fallen leaves and fallen flowers – a sad beauty, but beauty nonetheless. It's good that you are feeling as if you are now "at home", just in time for the snuggly season.
Wow! A Masterful Presentation! .. Mahalo, Heather
Bill Facker
Kauai-to-Paris.com
I was first intrigued by your post – the fallen blossoms in the wet, your desire to find balance between just being and capturing. Then I scrolled down through the comments and would really like to know about the Canadian tv interview.
Summer is on the wane here. Love the image of light like taffy – so apt.