Late autumn color

On Saturday, I got on my bicycle for my first long ride since Amy and I rode from Boston to New York with a lot of wonderful people. It was a beautiful warm day; a lot of leaves had fallen, but many more still clung to the trees. It seemed that orange and yellow and reds were everywhere around me.

I rode past the Connecticut river, where the water reflected the clear blue sky.

Almost home (mile 49, and my legs were complaining!) I found this welcome excuse to stop -- a beautiful still pond reflecting the late autumn color.

It rained last night, and today many of the leaves had fallen to the ground. I love the seasons in part because they end -- you have to catch them while you can, and then wait for next year ...

Plant colors in autumn

Despite the cooler autumn weather flowing in, some of summer's color remains. Photographing this flower, I was captivated by the curve of the aging petals. Despite the spot of decaying tissue, the strong yellow calls with lingering urgency to the insect world.


My mother used to call these "British Soldiers;" they are the spore-producing reproductive structures of the Reindeer Moss, which turns out to be a lichen. (Yes, if you look at anything closely enough, it will appear quite strange!)


The cooler weather slows the energy-producing efforts of green plants. Chlorophyll requires constant replenishment to remain in leaves, so as the process slows, these ferns turn pale.


Some leaves have a weak orange or yellow pigment in them all summer long, masked by the strong green of summer's photosynthesis. When the chlorophyll leaches out, the orange emerges.


Other plants fill the void with new colors. As the cooler weather sets in, the sugar maple starts to increase the amount of sugar in its sap, and the result is a pigment called anthocyanin that colors the leaves red.


This blueberry leaf is turning red too (its shape and hue reminds me of my grandmother Irene gleefully talking about the "flaming euonymous," simply for the sound of the phrase). I like the shadow of the bare twig making its design on the leave below, like a hand in the projector's light.

As I read about and re-learn how the fall colors happen, I am thinking about the "reveals" (noun) that operate in our own lives. (I have heard the word "reveal" used in theater to describe a panel that opens to show what was hidden behind: "The production uses a reveal in Act III to show the audience that the protagonist was listening behind a wall.") After my grandfather died, my grandmother emerged from mourning as a stronger voice, perhaps more herself. I certainly have felt that my years of psychoanalysis helped quiet my anxiety so that my other qualities could emerge. And perhaps, like the sugar maple, I am able to produce new qualities in autumn that didn't exist in my younger self!

Kayaking at sunset

We went down to the Guilford town dock late this afternoon with our kayaks.
Paddling out into the harbor, we enjoyed the evening light.

The water lay flat and calm; after the storms of the last few days, there was now no wind. The pastel colors of the evening sky were reflected in the water everywhere we looked.

For many years, Guilford and the surrounding shoreline towns were vacation destinations for people living in New York City (there used to be a number of big hotels dotting the shoreline). We have to remind ourselves that we don't need to go away to have a vacation experience!


We met our friends Maya, Sheldon & Claire paddling in from a longer outing.

Eventually, reluctantly, we did head in to shore ... but noting the warmth remaining in the water and air, it seemed likely we will be back to the Guilford harbor in our little boats again before the autumn weather gets too nippy!