I spent the day with the sun. Arm in arm we toured the autumn celebration, Festival of the Trees. The sun shifted as the day went by, sliding from one character to the next like a one man show.
We began our day traveling north to Vermont, the sun giving just enough soft light for glimpses of the bright orange and red leaves, bright scenes popping up through the fog like vignettes.
As morning came fully the sun’s new minted light was crisp and clear, each feature seen in perfect detail. I drove through Woodstock, past farms and fields, houses with chimneys wafting evidence of the warmth within, all with the backdrop of color. Bright yellow leaves tipped with red as if the trees were on fire, red leafed sugar maples, orange leaves, yellow leaves, the variety endless and design flawless. From there we traveled to Hartland for breakfast with friends, a house on a knoll with a view. I left the sun outside and went in to enjoy the meal and warmth.
Home again south to Massachusetts, the sun stronger and richer as the day wore on, the afternoon spent working outside feeling the warmth on my back, seeing the light reflected on bright trees and the still water of the pond.
Then again the sun changed, drifting away. The first sign was the cool air that told of coming dark. So I went with this late day sun to tend my sheep. I watched them graze in a rich green pocket, surrounded by fiery trees, color potent and alive like a witches brew in the late autumn light. I said goodbye to the sun.