The Fog Stole My Feet

Oh October, how you beguile me. One moment it's radiant light, dancing lady trees, quivering aspen, and scarlet burning bushes. Then the next day you shroud yourself, hiding all but the tiniest glimpse of your splendor.

The fog slithered along the ground, my feet disappearing as if underwater. The soggy, snow covered leaves assured me I was still on terra firma, yet looking down, I was footless, as if walking in water. Thick, goey clam chowder water.

I couldn't see across the street, only the faint glow of the still-lit street light. As I waded through the bright yellow carpet of fallen leaves, a few would pop out of the fog and twirl in front of me. I know where the stairs are, so I was safe, but it was surreal ascending them without seeing my feet.

I turned back to look at my house (the purpose of my venturing forth in the fog to begin with). I could see a tube from the aquaponic garden poking out of the fog towards me. Lumps that were cars. My faint street light. The closest branches of our autumn blaze maple, with a couple of lonely leaves.

Driving was even weirder. 15 mph was about the extent of visibility, but of course cars (without headlights) would come out of nowhere, as if they'd just exited some wormhole. I turned on my fog lights. (Swedish cars need fog lights...)

Pulling into the dreaded carline was bizarre. There was no school. I was in a line going nowhere, could only see one car in front of me, and we just crept along. Finally I could make out a flagpole, and the school appeared as I entered the circle, as if just deposited there by some kid done building a Lego set.

I inched my way home and wondered about the extreme contrast from the day before. It didn't escape me that I had only one day of my favorite month left – and I could see very little of it. It's as if October was saying, “Pay attention! Look closely! I'm still here, but not for long. Cherish the day.”

Today she's back in her full glory for one more showy day. I'm crunching through my dancing leaves again, marveling at the now blood red burning bushes around every corner, and wishing that time would stand still, just a little longer.

~Tina

October

Oh precious October, you are here, the most welcome of months.  I want to cherish each day, yet I know you'll slip by, unlike the relentless heat of July and August which lingers long into September.

I'm always waiting and watching for you, yet you surprise me every year. I look up from my hurry-scurry schedule and leaves have begun their seasonal change of clothes. The light has a different slant. The sun comes in my kitchen window, blindingly bouncing off the cars in the driveway and I can't sit at the table, it's so bright.

Gentle breezes, cooling, refreshing breezes blow in my window. I crunch on leaves that skitter-skatter down the sidewalk. So do my tires, as the dancing leaves skip into the street where they'll have much more room for their ballet.

Oh, the colors. The bright yellow of the quivering-shivering aspen, the gentle gold of an ancient oak. 

Then there are the dancing lady trees who give us the best of three worlds, and have yellowish tinted leaves as their petticoat, then the first, almost transparent layer of their dress is golden, giving way to the scarlett-burgundy last layer. If it's still, you can't see the underclothes, but when the wind whips by in a whirl, you get a peek. She shares her secret, as she twirls with the breeze in a cotillion of her own.

Bushes burn, catching autumn slowly as the redness spreads until the entire shrub is shrouded in fire-engine red. You can watch that color spread each day, if you're looking.

And oh do I look. I roll my windows down to catch every breeze. I gawk at the parade before me. I cast my gaze towards the mountains and watch the aspen slowly emerge from the pines. Little rivers of yellow flow slowly down the mountain, until I don't have to drive very far at all to catch the show, this splendid October show.

~Tina, savoring the season