Tag: Autumn

The Love of Bare November Days with Its Withered Trees

November 3, 2024

An amazing photographer, Kim Allen Goff, posted this beautiful photo on social media and commented,

“I’ve loved to peer into windows since I was a child and the older the house the better! The reflections on these windowpanes spoke the language of November.”

Immediately, her comment and photo reminded me of this Robert Frost poem, below. I read somewhere that, in this particular poem, “Sorrow finds beauty in its desolation”.

It is true.

Sorrow does bring forth reflection, and from that reflection springs clarity of understanding, and from that clarity -eventually- those turbulent waters reach their destination and may turn into a beautiful and calm and crystalline cove or lake. So there. I have to thank Kim for making me be happy about my birthday month! There is beauty in those reflections of the bare, the withered tree…

MY NOVEMBER GUEST
by Robert Frost

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

Autumn in Maine Can Bring a Flash of Great Joy.

October 3, 2024

Today I reunited with old friends here in Maine, something that gave me a flash of great joy. Driving home, looking at the myriad of red, orange and yellow leaves, I reflected on why I felt so happy.

Autumn is a special time here, not only because of the beauty of the landscape, but because it is the beginning of “nesting” time, or rather, the anticipation of what is to come after the leaf peepers leave:  the start of what I call the Andrew Wyathesque period of the area:  the grasses will turn yellow and there will soon be a calming down, that may bring sadness or contentment.  It depends.

The weather has an underlying chill.  My good friend, the horse, can’t wait for the first frost that will finally put an end to the pesky flies that pullulate around him.  I am not ready for that first frost, but am resigned to it.  

I have my winter clothes and am prepared.  I hope I will opt for contentment and not sadness.  One of the things I feared most about moving to Maine full time was the sadness I would feel, not because of the cold, but because of the short dark days.

I discovered that weather played a pivotal role in my life when I first lived in Moscow, gazillion years ago, in the late 1980’s.  It wasn’t until I visited Rome, on a beautiful sojourn early one spring to escape the darkness of the USSR, that I realized how the Moscow weather (and lack of sunlight) affected my soul.  In those days, only a rare few had identified this condition as “SAD”:  seasonal affective disorder.  

In the end, it was thanks to my SAD condition that I finally understood why there was only a Tchaikovsky, or a Dostoevsky, or any one of those profound Russian musicians, artists and writers.  I realized that weather and lack of light can affect your outlook on life, especially if you are missing something or are experiencing a longing of sorts.  There is an emotional dislocation. 

I resorted to music and my children, who were very young then, can attest to that.  I bombarded them with songs.  To this day, they tell me, they remember most of the music scores I played in the car, wherever we went, and they have a soft spot in their hearts for them.

Funny how old age can change things around.  I know I will be sad and melancholic when we lose the leaves and the grasses turn yellow.  However, I am anticipating spending cold days ahead with warm and kind friends and acquaintances who understand that we all go through that misplacement of emotions that comes from living life.

I leave you to listen to one of my favorite ballads that captures my heart, my love for my home, and best explains my sentiments nowadays.