Thursday, November 13, 2008
There is a curious lightness about fall that I always forget about. It is kind of like when you rearrange the furniture in a room and it all looks fresh and unfamiliar. There were some very gusty days last week and it seemed like in one afternoon our trees turned yellow and dropped their millions of leaves. We do, as always, have one stubborn tree that likes to stay green until it snows. Every year we get to go out a try to rake the sodden (sodding!) mess so our grass won't die. My theory on why this particular tree is so late is that it is directly behind our dryer vent and since I do so much laundry I have created my own little micro-climate out there. Who knows. Back to light. I must say that by March I am quite tired of the bare sticks that are trees, but in November they are strangely lovely. Everything looks decluttered and simplified, the earth refashions itself in monochromatic grays and tans with a little of that dark autumn green thrown in, and the light in my house changes. My living room is filled with early afternoon sun that is blocked during the summer and there is a sunny spot on my landing that makes me want to curl up and take a nap -- oh where is my chaise lounge? So even though I hate to see the long, warm days come to an end, it is always nice to have a change, eat a warm dinner in a bright room surrounded by comforting darkness, and stock up on hot chocolate.