Friday, September 14, 2012

Fall colour

There is something simply beautiful about the colours that occur in fall. The artist in me savours them all.  But sometimes the brilliance that is caught at sunset - as these orange pansies and marigolds in my window box were a few evenings ago, makes my heart sing.

I can't imagine not being able to see colour. It is truly one of the wonderful gifts that we humans have. We take them so for granted our five or six senses, don't you think?

A few years ago a blind rough coat collie came to live with me, and I marvelled at how he managed to get along with only a little bit of vision. He would walk and even run the pathways I mow in the pasture, and as soon as his whiskers felt the grasses he would veer back into the centre of the path. The Invisible Fence kept him safe on the property - because he still had his hearing. But it made me aware of how important the ability to see is.

So when I notice the changing seasons, I'm even more grateful for my senses and for the ability to recognize them from the first hint that change is on the way.

Sunflowers have been erupting all over the garden for several weeks, but this beauty - there are now more than 20 blossoms on it - took it's time growing. It must be about eight feet tall. I'm going to have to put a stake in the ground now so that it won't fall over, especially when the birds land on it to grab seeds which they will be doing soon.

Today it's raining, gently, softly, not like the downpours and deluges that have damaged so much of North America's coastlines recently. The ground will be soft enough to plant a stake and tie this beauty to it.

And soft enough for me to get busy and tidy up some of the weeds and grasses I've allowed to take hold over the summer months. Cement-like dirt is very discouraging to try to weed. My hoe doesn't work well at all.

And then there are these dancing daisy-like beauties, feathery and light - they remind me of my brothers who like me, love cosmos and how they dress a flower garden.

And then there is Christopher, whose vision is impaired with a scar on the retina of one eye. He doesn't see colour anyway, but he is a colourful cat, black and sleek with a few white hairs here and there to remind me of passing time. He's colourful in other ways.

Today everyone is gathered inside, out of the drizzle, but listening to its gentle dripping onto the deck and pond. The colours will be more intense because of the mist and rain. A good day to savour everything.

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