The local Autumn Equinox is about 9:30 tomorrow night. This morning, on the last full day of Summer 2014, the Daughter Person (DP) and her mother (my Better Half) were preparing to attend DP's very own bridal shower. Since boys aren't invited to or allowed at those kind of things, DP's father person took DP's fiancee on a trip along the St. Croix River to see if we could spot a kettle of hawks migrating south. In the hour or two spent watching and driving around, we saw one individual hawk (not migrating), a pair of mature bald eagles, a turkey vulture and a murder of crows (below). While not an outstanding success, neither was the trip an abysmal failure.
A "murder" of crows riding a thermal updraft
In addition to watching for hawks, we got to enjoy the colors along the river, which, though spotty, are eye-catching, especially in broken sunlight. I noted that, prevalent along the river gorge are oaks and other trees that stay green until later in the season. At this time of year, the mix in the forest is much more obvious than in Summer, when everything's green.
Unless we get some unanticipated weather disaster, I think this year's foliage will be at peak color about the same weekend as the wedding. That was the idea in setting the schedule. Another part of today's trip included a few stops to collect some more colorful leaves for the flower girl to scatter from her basket. This fits with the theme and the effort ensure that many of the wedding decorations, to my great pleasure, will use local, natural materials. I think something like the leaves below is at least as attractive as (more than) rose petals for those of us who cannot (or will not) live without wild things.
Spots of color along the St. Croix River
Flaming maple leaves
The Beautiful Changes
One wading a Fall meadow finds on all sidesThe Queen Anne’s Lace lying like liliesOn water; it glidesSo from the walker, it turnsDry grass to a lake, as the slightest shade of youValleys my mind in fabulous blue Lucernes.
The beautiful changes as a forest is changedBy a chameleon’s tuning his skin to it;As a mantis, arrangedOn a green leaf, growsInto it, makes the leaf leafier, and provesAny greenness is deeper than anyone knows.
Your hands hold roses always in a way that saysThey are not only yours; the beautiful changesIn such kind ways,Wishing ever to sunderThings and things’ selves for a second finding, to loseFor a moment all that it touches back to wonder.
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.