Sunday, October 31, 2010

October's cup:

golden ginkgo
of sense memory.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

October's Fruit

bleeds the season of intense light.

Friday, October 29, 2010

October Ingot:

a leaf

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

October Gold-leaf

burnishes leaves
picture plane

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Monday, October 25, 2010

October Gift

"When will you give me a picture?" Boo asked when I showed her the tree snaps on my laptop.

"They might not really be sharply focused," I said.

"When will I get a picture?" she asked.

That was Saturday afternoon.

Sunday afternoon I took her the collage: "Three Cheers for Boo's Tree!"

She cheered.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

October Fickleness

In half an hour, light appeared and disappeared, wind blew and stilled, clouds drifted and raced, leaves shimmered and wafted, Green's View shifted its view like the weather -- unable (or unwilling) to let fall fall.

Friday, October 22, 2010

October Web

At least one spider October as much as I.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

A Cheer for October

Boo's tree is so admired that during one fall football game (her house is across from the field) the Sewanee cheerleaders turned to face it and cheered for it (or so Boo says).

I cheer for it every fall day.

Today especially.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

October's Woods

invite walking to see what's below and stopping to see what's above.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

October View

At Morgan's Steep,
a few trees flame
against nickel sky
and undulating plateau.

Monday, October 18, 2010

October Sky

wears vapor trails like pin stripes in early morningphotograph by my friend Lynne V.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

October butterflies

are few: today I saw one large white fluttering wildly like a drunk driver; one Gulf Fritillary, a bit too jumpy for the camera; and one zooming Spicebush Swallowtail.

But the skippers still flicker, filling up on fuchsia flowers, before the temperature turns for good.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

October afternoon

sun spotlights individual leaves, transmuting them into gels of gobsmackingly luminous color.

Friday, October 15, 2010

October Wind

rolls like whistling waves, turning the yard into a humming surf of leaf and bird.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

October Sugar

lime, blood orange, tangerine

plump the blue bowl of sky.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

October Nuts!

neighbor's sons have gathered acorns within a broken-limb corral, while I have been gathering baseball-sized black walnuts into heaps on weeds.

Question: where are the dadgum squirrels?

Monday, October 11, 2010

October's Last

Gulf Fritillaries race through on their way to somewhere else.

For a moment, everything blazes with fall.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

October Sussurus

The conversation of leaves underfoot and overhead makes welcome company on an afternoon walk.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

October Foulard

Tired zinnia petals --
chiffon foulard unraveling.

Friday, October 8, 2010

October Shadows

incise gravestone words more deeply, dapple already dappled stone -- mossy, algaed, sprouting fungus and small blossoms.

The lanes, leaf-littered, run in and out of light, the canopy of trees dribbling acorns and twigs, parting every now and then to reveal electric blue sky.

The cemetery houses known and unknown, even the famous, but it's the stones that name the living as well as the dead that deepen the shadows even further. A wife who will be buried there next to her husband, a mother who will join her daughter in a twin grave -- these cause me to linger, perhaps because I know the living who will join their dead one day.But sky beckons, and I move out into light.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

October's Last Bursts

of flower are wild and wildly luxuriant.

Reminiscent of the passion flowers of mid-summer and prescient of crocus to come in late winter, late purple aster stuns, spinning its own heat, sparkling like sun-struck water in Lake Cheston.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

October Silence

Early morning. Two deer rest on the grassy patch between my and my neighbor's house. When I part the curtain to take a grainy photo, the older doe looks at me, ears perked. I shoot, pour tea in the kitchen, return, and note they have disappeared as silently as they arrived.

October: the month of silent deer.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

October Light

Morning silence
but for tapping keys,
whirring hard drive;

tea breathing
in stoneware cup,
screen glowing.

My doppelganger
umber shadow
October light.

Monday, October 4, 2010

October Worship

Lucy prostrates herself at the altar of Our Lady of Radiant Heat.
October has arrived.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

October Rust

burnishes and dusts leaves gold and bronze.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

The Month of Red, Too

The burning bush
burns on Tennessee Avenue.

Friday, October 1, 2010

October's Vault of Blue

Every flower still blooming lifts its face to the vault of blue.