The Mandatory New England Fall Foliage Blog

When you live in New England, you’re just expected to fall in love with fall all over again, every year. So many uninspired ad lines remind you to “Fall in for Savings”, “Fall in love with this sale or that”. Envious outsiders request photos or visits to see the miracle that is fall in New England. They give not a thought that all those brilliant colors will relentlessly drop themselves onto your deck, walkway, and car, creating a slipping hazard when dewy, frosted, or wet, all of which could happen in a single day in New England.

I was compelled to sort by graduate size — I was compelled to sort maple leaves by graduated size. It feels as though the ratio of largest to smallest is the same as the ratio of sap to syrup 40:1 don’t you think? For more on maple (syrup) read my earlier post http://wp.me/p13Md6-WG.

The colored leaves are beautiful, I admit, with their vivid reds and oranges and yellows. And, I still experience the child-like need to collect the best of them and save them in vases or tuck them into floral designs, all the while denying the compulsion to reattach them to the twigs they left behind. But this doesn’t make me fall in love with fall.

My maple bouquet "leafie" not a selfie of my thumb and forefinger — My maple bouquet “leafie” not a selfie of my thumb and forefinger

Loving fall is as narrow focused and shallow-minded as standing near a volcanic flow and loving the glow of lava right up until it vaporizes your feet. Or enjoying the sound of the ice cracking as you step out onto the middle of a semi freddo lake.

Please note, my opinion of fall is not a case of seeing a glass (or a tree) as half full or half empty. It is instead a state of readiness, knowing what to expect and being prepared. If fall; then winter.

Would you like to know how dictionary.com describes the seasons?

Summer is “a period of fruition, fulfillment, happiness, or beauty.” and Winter is “a period of time characterized by coldness, misery, barrenness, or death”. Well then I say, “Fall is the short bridge to decay far more than it is an extension of the lush vibrancy of summer”.

If, dear readers, you want your fall blog, I shall oblige, knowing most of you will not be brought down by the verbiage of this post as you are really only here for the pictures, anyway.

You can “ooo” and “ahhh” at the changing colors oblivious to my sad autumn sonnet crafted and validated through various reference materials. Speaking of which, did you know that according to http://www.thefreedictionary.com “autumnal” means “characteristic of late maturity verging on decline?” I understand now – that the fear of autumn is really just a fear of self.

Barn as seen through the dying sunflowers — Autumnal barn as seen through rapidly declining sunflowers.

I think I’ll go put on my snuggies and head to bed, we did after all hit the early bird dinner specials pretty hard tonight, and despite my sensible shoes, my dogs are barking.