November Splendor
I’m engaging in a personal restoration project. For some reason, I can drift away from the things that bring me joy: walks, photography, playing the piano, journaling, even reading for pleasure. When I finished my master’s thesis years ago, I recall coming out of the exam and thinking, “I don’t have to study. Now I can do whatever I want!” But this was immediately followed by a sense of blank. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do!
It’s easy to sink into the daily routines and “tyranny of the urgent” and forget what energizes us. I’m trying to climb back out of such a place by incorporating those simple pleasures. Yesterday I took a walk at a nearby park, and even though the world seems barren and colorless in this season, I was reminded that beauty remains — and what color there is, is more potent against its largely monochromatic surroundings.
The gathering of trees to the left has always been in flux. It’s in a low spot and often floods; the trees’ shallow root systems have yielded a number of the company over time, as the stumps attest.
But it’s still lovely. The girls and I dubbed it “Buttercup Hollow” one spring years ago, but an entish name would be equally appropriate.
Dead leaves, rust-colored brush and bare trees. . . yet against the chilly blue sky, it doesn’t look blah. The subtle shades and textures are highlighted.
Lucy, in constant motion and always interested in the odors, is in her element. She’s getting older too — just turned 12 — but she’s still always ready for an outing.
The stream brings back memories of my children searching for crayfish, minnows, and rocks to throw for the dog — as well as one homemade boat that was tested in this stream.
I wouldn’t want to go in today!
The fallen tree to the left is new and serves as a reminder that the elements of any natural scene are temporary. But the overall impression isn’t of death, but serene beauty.
This trail is marked by plantings. We helped put in a few of them at this park when the girls were in 4H. They’re supposed to prevent erosion, and some of them seem to flourish. But I’ve never seen them freed from their little green tubes! Who’s allowed to take them off? Who decides when?
Still, they provide a neat border, as well as define a yellow-brick-road style path inscribed on the landscape. We followed it out to the end of our “little explore.”
