Autumn Wedding Trees
Last year, I began to notice how much beauty there is in the transition of autumn to winter. It’s like pre Christmas decoration. I was walking past my neighbor’s house and did a double take. The white balls are original design. I just held my breath with excitement! HOW?
What kind of bush is this??
The other natural phenomenon I am never getting tired of is discovering how many pine cones there are! This photo is my latest tiny, tiny find. I also have found so many giant and cylindrical ones and a variety of colors. When I was growing up in Texas, I only noticed ONE kind and I guess I thought that was it.
This autumn has been particularly gorgeous and is lingering. Our yellow and golden trees have showed up late and STAYED! They caught my eye because it’s so nice to have some color still before everything grows dark and dreary. As I am trying to pay more attention, one day it caught me off guard to see a blanket of yellow leaves that were not dead. I usually noticed the dead ones not only because I have to clean them up, but also, I love how they fall in various ways—some blown by the wind, some look like a housekeeper is beating out a dusty rug and others seem to be stomped out by argumentative squirrels. So, the day I saw the not-dead leaves falling on the ground, I was like, wait, WEDDING TREES in the winter??
A few years ago, I wrote about The Wedding Trees. Click HERE to read that post!
The picture from the front of this post is the yellow carpet in my backyard. So far, I only noticed yellow ones, but I bet there are others. I can’t wait until next year because I am going to be watching!! I will close with this…the day after I noticed the autumn wedding trees, I read a beautiful poem by Christina Rosetti who was also a watcher and a waiter. Here’s what she writes in a poem called Advent:
Earth grown old, yet still so green,
Deep beneath her crust of cold
Nurses fire unfelt, unseen:
Earth grows old.
We who live are quickly told:
Millions more lie hid between
Inner swathings of her fold.
When will fire break up her screen?
When will life burst thro’ her mould?
Earth, earth, earth, thy cold is keen,
Earth grown old.
