Autumnal Tints

Henry wrote about them. Witness to the leaves of his Concord, turning from summer green to the yellows, reds, browns and golds of Autumn in New England. Even this morning, with a mild northeast wind and a shoreline mizzle dampening the complexion of this day, the colors of the woodbine and the swamp maples, the beeches and wild cherry trees create a palette that improves upon imagining. How is it that nature never clashes, that its random hues are compatible, beautiful and inspiring? How is it that this natural kaleidoscope can completely overwhelm whatever darkness, shades of gray and damp depression? It is like the hardwood fire that blazes. As long as the vision is there, or the tactile warmth radiates deep into the soul. This is the time of transition between swimming and bathing suits to sweaters, wook mackinacs, fleece and down duvets to ward off the approaching chill. The evenings come earlier, the early morning rise is pitch black. The process is steady, even stealthy. It is gradaual but I am feeling that it is more swift than ever.