Fall Art

Some artists say the finished product is not the important thing; it’s all about the journey. With the fall here and winter not far behind, like nature I withdrew inward—and rather quickly. The ebullience of summer’s energy faded and withered, giving way to thoughtful musings and time to reflect. Since retirement, I finally have that time and used it.

I started this blog with enthusiasm and then fall hit and the blog came to a screeching halt. I’ve become reflective and quiet. I want to stare out at the hazy days of fall and watch the yellow, orange and red leaves drift down.

My roses are giving their last push to put out puny blooms (I think I need to feed them). I know I should go out and rake the leaves and tend my roses, but instead I stare at it all in sleepy awe and do as little as I can conscionably get away with.

We haven’t done much traveling since the start of this blog, unless you count a drive into the hills to get a couple of free dinners at the Table Mountain Indian Gaming casino. Fred got some dinner coupons for his help at the Savemart golf Shootout last month and we needed to use them or lose them.

The hills are dry now. After living through many seasons here in the San Joaquin Valley, I’ve come to appreciate the dry hills of fall. They have their own beauty of beiges and tans. It’s a more subtle beauty than spring, when all the shades of green explode and fill your soul with healing and hope. Fall is quiet. Reflective. Introverted. A good time to take a moment to think about where you’ve been this year, where you are headed—or maybe just watch Nature do its fall art.