The colors are going away, drifting off into those late autumn hours of rain, wind and cold. Each day, the trees have fewer leaves and all that fire in the trees is falling to the ground, leaf by leaf. Let’s see if I can put this poetically.
“No,”said the fox. “Please, Biff, don’t do that to us.”
“Fox,” I reply, “Isn’t it time for your intravenous?”
Aw…the fox doesn’t like me anymore. Maybe I don’t have to watch him smile anymore.
So here it is…poetry… and the intricate structure of naked branches are like veins of the earth rupturing into the sky.
I get chills.
I write lousy poetry.
OK, fox…you were right. Stop pouting and come back here and help me write this blog.
“Biff…if you ever mention my intravenous again…I’m leaving your blog.”
OK, fox. Don’t get your diaper so wound…I mean…don’t get your panties so wound up.”
“Tightrope, Biff, tightrope.”
OK, let’s talk about today. I was on my lunch hour, driving, drinking coffee, no idea what I was going to photograph. So I took the road into Lincoln because I got some good stuff there yesterday. But, there was one other place I’ve crossed paths with before and wanted to capture. So I drove there.
It’s a place where a stream flows into a marshy area almost like a horizontal roller coaster. It’s like a story unfolding. And that’s what nature is…a story unfolding. Around here, the story has four parts…summer, fall, winter and spring. Life, color, death and re-birth.
And the color.
I think…the closer you get to death…the more you appreciate the color. And color is so full of sound, texture, aroma and the beautiful sight of life.
These are things we’re taught to ignore. We’re taught to conform to the norm. We’re taught to average out so that we’re not noticed…so that we fit into a mould that was never of our making.
Fox, are you with me on this?
“Yeah, Biff…with you all the way on this.”
Hey, you two reading my blog…go into the woods. Leave your cell phones at home. Park your car half a mile from where you’re going into the woods. Get into the woods and close your eyes. Close them longer than you’ve ever closed them before. Forget everything…the job, the next payment, the relationship, the feeling of emptiness…and just feel the woods around you. Then, open your eyes and see the beauty.
It’s there. You haven’t lost it. It’s been there all the time…waiting for you.
Lesson learned: There can be color in black and white. No shit.