Foggy Walk
It is not the clear-sighted who rule the world. Great achievements are accomplished in a blessed, warm fog. ~ Joseph Conrad
I’ve been walking in a blessed, warm fog, thanks to a persistent weather pattern. But there is beauty wherever I look, and gratefulness for the opportunity to walk in this world, foggy or not.
Autumn Fog © 2013 Bo Mackison
“In nature, everything has a job. The job of the fog is to beautify further the existing beauties!” ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan
I had a list of places I wanted to visit during Wisconsin’s beautiful autumn. I waited and waited. And those magical sun-filled days did not appear. I held on so tightly to the idea of “need sun for this explore” and eventually I had to cross several places off my list – places that close for the season on October 31st.
Yesterday I finally took a long look at the calendar, and realized I was not getting a single one of all those October days back. True, it’s been a busy, eventful month, but there were days when I changed plans due to weather, thinking I could fit a visit in when the weather was more suitable. Yesterday, I realized there were only two days left in October, and I had not visited many of the places I usually visit to soak in the autumn beauty.
It was foggy, a bit misty. But I pulled out my winter coat, waterproof and warm, and went for a walk in a nearby park. The fog was moody, thick in some places on the trail, but it offered an interesting color intensity that I would likely have missed if I were walking in bright sunlight. In the gray mist, the colors that do show through are mystical and mesmerizing. An unexpected gift.
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Disclosure: There are several good reasons why I pack up and head to Arizona for the dark seasons of the year. I do love Arizona’s stark beauty fiercely. I also love her sunshine., especially since I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, and the lack of sun plays havoc with my biological chemistry. I delayed my travels this year, for the very best of reasons, and decided to play it smart once I noticed the effects the diminishing sunlight had on my moods and energy levels. I have a thing about taking medications, but there is a time when it is the right call. The treatment appears to be helping, hence the photos of the park in yesterday’s fog.
Reflection Pool at Sunset © 2013 Bo Mackison
“Every day comes bearing its own gifts. Untie the ribbon.’ ~ Ruth Ann Schabacker
A walk through gardens in an autumn evening is a gentling walk. The colors are muted, less brilliant than in full summer sunlight, yet they take on a preciousness of their own. Nuances of colors, the mark of changing seasons. A few late season flowers bloom in full glory, surrounded by dropped petals and browning blossoms of flowers past their prime.
The reflection pool, at rest in the evening pause, takes on the autumn colors of yellows, oranges. The last water lilies are in bloom. The grasses, seeded, shimmer in gold and silver. Leaves fall, catch the slightest of breezes, and quiver through the air.
It is a peaceful time, this transition time from sunset to twilight.
Autumn Monarch © 2013 Bo Mackison
“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly.” ~ Richard Bach
Endings are beginnings. Maybe disguised, frequently unwanted, a few are eagerly awaited, but every moment is a moment of change.
I watch the days shortening, cloudy skies are becoming routine. A flash of the sun, even a ten minute as it slips from gray cloud cover, is eagerly greeted, and appreciated. Perhaps I appreciate these glimpses, I am more grateful for the sunlight, when it is miserly doled out a minute here, a minute there.
I wonder? Do I take Arizona’s blue bowl skies, the brightly lit desert environment as the precious gift it is when I am in Arizona? I do wake every morning before sunrise, grab a coffee, and go outside to wait for the emerging sun as it emerges above the Santa Rita Mountains.
Perhaps it’s time to make travel plans to visit my casita in Arizona… Missing the desert so much!
Yellow Leaves © 2013 Bo Mackison
In taking time to contemplate the small – in observing the details…we can experience life on a manageable scale.
~ Marilyn Barrett
Sitting under the emerald ash
green-yellow shimmers,
pierced-work light filters through
and quivering, touches the ground, settling
in the flutter of fallen leaves.
Wayward chickadee hops branch
to branch, twee-hee.
I am the statue. The tree bursts open
with flits, twitters, chase scenes,
each bird shouldering its way to the feeder
shoving match, the littlest chickadee
flies into leafy cover.
Earthy October and dusty leaves,
crumples of brown, closing my eyes,
I imagine my hands, they open
the trunk. It’s filled with yellowed letters and
faded handwriting, cancelled stamps on
featherweight airmail envelopes.
Red squirrels scavenge the hickory nuts,
their tails a shimmer like can-can skirts.
My feet are bare, toes grip the earth, it is how
I hang on to this spinning world
when it dips and dives out of synch.
And we creep towards the coming dark,
hail the purple skies and the last gasp trees of scarlet.
Color my world. Cheery-cheery trills the cardinal.
Twilight descends, the first star shines.
Make a wish. Spin around twice.
Go inside and turn on the lights.
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Bo Mackison is photographer, book-maker, collector of stories, naturalist, curator and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Autumn color is coloring my world.
