Autumn; As I wander through the blogs, I see this season has brought with it sadness for some of the contributors.. Autumn the fall of golden leaves, the very untidiness of all these leaves as the trees shed their cover with such blatant strip teasing, leaving the tidy minded to tut-tut about the mess and bring out their leaf blowers and rakes.
There is a very funny video of a great heap of leaves on a lawn in America. Suddenly a labrador comes bounding into view and throws himself with great delight into the middle of the heap. Sod tidiness just enjoy the moment the dog says just enjoy the thrill.
I have a photo by my bed of Lucy my spaniel, she is sitting by the side door outside, her eyes closed as she raises her face to the sun. At her feet is the cushion that she has pinched from Paul's study. Simple pleasures are there each day, animals remind us of this.
Here in Todmorden, one might almost call it the back of beyond, according to an article about a village called Blackshaw Head just a few miles away. The city reporter (I assume) says "Isolated Yorkshire hamlet where locals say those who survive their first winter stay forever" Don't worry its got holiday homes and a shop so you won't starve there! Looking at the dross articles on this news outlet and one could but wonder what the hell is the human race coming to, perhaps we need less news.
The other bit of news I picked up was from The Guardian, its more grave articles (okay I am taking the piss) is an archaeological feature about Orkney. A burial mound has uncovered 14 skeletons, still articulated, and two skeletons embracing each other. 'A Neolithic Feat of Engineering'.
It reminds me of the three skeletons found together about which Gary Snyder wrote such a romantic poem but his conclusions were probably not true. But there again where would we be if we did not have poetry?
She lay there midst
Mammoth, reindeer, and wolf bones;
Very graphic poem Thelma - you get the picture as clearly as if it was a painting. I am obsessively tidy and getting worse but the prospect of fallen leaves to me epitomises Autumn - wish I was a young dog - I would be in the heap throwing the leaves about with gay abandon!
ReplyDeleteChildren also throw the leaves around as well. Apart from 'conker' hunting they also take pleasure from shuffling through the leaves as well. Then as we get older we have to worry about slipping on leaves and getting injured;)
DeleteIt is a not so much a strip tease, which hints at something thrilling about to unfold. (I am not a fan of winter.) It has always seemed to me that it is more undressing for bed, of old bones wearily tucking themselves under a comforter for a sound sleep.
ReplyDeleteThat is a lovely analogy Debby. Some trees throw off their leaves in one movement whilst others cling to them through winter. Probably thinking here more of shrubs.
DeleteI remember that poem. Might well have been three women . . .What a lovely photo of Lucy sun-worshipping (with her coveted cushion!)
ReplyDeleteDebby - love that analogy. Words are at a premium with my Covid-brain right now!
Lucy made Zen an art of course, except though when she had a night of going a bit mad. Something to do with her past I think. She was on the spectrum!
DeleteAs for the poem, we don't really know the story of the three burials, we just attach a story I suppose.
Oh Thelma, Lucy was such a beautiful dog. I adore spaniels and, if I was younger would have another. We do still have two small poppets both eleven years old so I need to keep going for them! Such a responsibility. Todmorden sounds and looks delightful. Jan Bx
ReplyDeleteYes Jan if I was younger would also have another spaniel like Lucy, going for the older dog in rescue centres is a good idea as one gets older. Lucy was a darling, loved her food and home and disliked walks.
ReplyDeleteApologies anonmous or even anonmice but not playing the game of not knowing who you are, so you get deleted ;)
ReplyDeleteThat sound of shuffliing through leaves is one of th evocative sounds of Autumn - that coupled with the smell of Autumn leaves spells Autumn without a word being said. But there is a sadnes there too.
ReplyDeleteBut that is why we call it the circle or cycle of the year Pat. Spring and summer after winter, nature has a routine.
ReplyDeleteActually, this has just come to mind. Wolverhampton always reminds me of Autumn, the smell of dankness in the park and the smell of beer (probably hops) on the air. I think sadness has to be there because it is the opposite of being happy - ying and yang.
"Memory photos" popping up can create waves of nostalgia--the pets, the gardens no longer with us, to say nothing of the people who have shared life with us. I was inspired to search for your posts that featured Lucy, which of course included the Green-Eyed cat, the chickens, the scenes of country life. Making peace with the narrowing of our elder years is a bit daunting!
ReplyDeleteYes I miss Green Eyes as well Sharon ;) though I know she went to a good home and settled in happily. But you are right coming to terms with being old is in itself daunting. But I can say I am quite happy where I am now, looking back on old memories there must be a trigger in us to stop fighting life and just accepting it.
ReplyDeleteI can remember the exact moment I met Green-eyes (not a good name). But on looking over the church wall she was sitting in the greenery under a tree. We looked at each other and she decided that our garden was going to be her home alongside the hens. ;)