Floating Festival

The great gray veil has been pulled across the sky, sealing in the Willamette Valley.  Here and there a ray breaks through or the clouds part revealing the blue sky of summer. Soon these last few patches will close and the covering will be complete.

But it is not dreary yet, for though the sun shines not from above, it glows all around us on the ground and in the air.  Pale yellow leaves quiver on their sprigs or flutter to the ground  en masse as a breeze rushes through.  Ornamental maples shed piles of ruby foliage, candy for the eyes. A majestic oak (I think it’s an oak) is a fiery tower of phosphorescent orange leaves, so bright they seem unnatural.  Everywhere one turns, the stored-up sunshine seems to beam out, made all the brighter by the twilight quality of the days.

I love this last brilliant tribute to the warm quadrant of the color wheel.  Soon enough the final gem will fall and we will be left to contemplate the many nuances of green, blue, purple and gray.  For now, I will revel in this floating, falling festival.


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