The trees are turning late this year. It's been a roller coaster weather year, but I'm delighted to find autumn has arrived with its bushel basket of small pleasures. I'm enjoying my first batch of apple turnovers this morning, made with five kinds of heirloom apples and spiced sugar. The papery pastry crumbles like fallen leaves, wrapping warm cinnamon and nutmeg spiked apples that melt on your tongue. A steaming mug of strong black tea sits at my elbow as the sky slowly begins to brighten and dawn considers appearing.
This weekend I was fortunate to be able to get out and ramble through local woods with good friends. The maples and oaks are putting on a fine show in all colors of orange, yellow, sienna, mahogany, and red. I think color shows better on cloudy days when you come around a corner and suddenly you encounter the flame-orange of a sugar maple in all its glory. This year, though, the oaks are stealing the spotlight.
A sudden glimpse of sun lights the treetops.
My dear friend Edith encouraged us all to capture a falling leaf, ensuring that we would have a year without colds if we did. It reinforced my desperate lack of athleticism and grace, but I managed to finally catch a bur oak leaf. The laughter was perhaps the best part of the exercise and we were certainly warmed by the chasing.
For me, a walk in the woods on an autumn day invigorates all five senses. The susurration of shuffling through dried leaves is a distinctive music. Cold air nips at your nose and the fragrance of leaf mold and bark seeps into your skin. My katsura (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) is beginning to perfume the yard. As its leaves turn apricot gold and fall away, they smell of cooked sugar with a touch of spice. It lingers on the back of your tongue. I like to press palms against the rough hewn bark of oaks and see if I can connect with the hamadryad inside. And of course, trees are a visual feast.
Helllooooo beautiful!
I hope you get a chance to get out and explore all the delights of autumn this year. Bring a friend and find a special memory in the form of a tree.
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