“...That country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain.”
― Ray Bradbury It was a beautiful autumn day here in Seattle. Some years we have a lot of those. This year we have had a lot of rain and most days the leaves land on the pavement and are quickly reduced to the consistency of soggy cornflakes. They then drift in matts onto the grates over the storm drains and when the rains return the streets flood. However we seem to be in the lull between storms and I am hoping it will be nice enough tomorrow to gather some leaves. It is much more pleasant to collect them when they are dry - or maybe slightly damp - at least not clumped in puddles. I did find some good Ginko leaves yesterday and dried a few off to take home. I saw a beautiful yellow and red tinged oak that I am sorry I did not take a photo of - it was lying in a puddle. I may try to paint what I remember, anyway.
The leaves in this picture are actually leaves I collected and traced around. I like to find different kinds and different sizes. I wish their color would last forever but I suppose if it did we would take it for granted and we would miss out on the delicate new green of spring. I've been reading Ray Bradbury. I started for October, and if you are not quite ready to leave Halloween behind then I recommend to you several of his books:
The Halloween Tree
The October Country
From the Dust Returned
Something Wicked This Way Comes.
All very atmospheric.