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.
