A few days ago, while I was standing at the kitchen sink washing a few dishes, I glanced out the window into the back yard and was overtaken by the way the early afternoon sun was illuminating the fallen autumn leaves in the rock garden. I grabbed my camera, walked out into the back yard, and shot a few pictures, including the one above. When I showed it to my wife, she said it belonged on a calendar. I thought it belonged on a blog.
I started blogging in the dead of winter, January 5, 2009. At least a couple of my early posts, “Snow in the City” and “Winter’s Last Hurrah” were about winter. Spring was the topic of a post I entitled “Of Lambs and Lions.” To my best recollection I did not write anything about summer, perhaps because I did not have one, or at least was not able to enjoy it. I think I worked part of almost every day throughout the summer, having very few full days off to enjoy the summer by kayaking, climbing or backpacking. In fact, as I look back over the past several months, I wonder “what summer?” Now that it is fall and I am not working as much I am able to enjoy and appreciate the season and even have the time to take photographs of fall leaves in the backyard rock garden.
Randomly distributed brightly colored fall leaves among intentionally arranged rocks must hold some sort of deep, metaphorical and existential meaning, or at least serve as a Zen koan, inviting one to meditate on one’s existence and the meaning of life. What is the sound of one leaf falling? What language do rocks speak?
I started blogging in the dead of winter, January 5, 2009. At least a couple of my early posts, “Snow in the City” and “Winter’s Last Hurrah” were about winter. Spring was the topic of a post I entitled “Of Lambs and Lions.” To my best recollection I did not write anything about summer, perhaps because I did not have one, or at least was not able to enjoy it. I think I worked part of almost every day throughout the summer, having very few full days off to enjoy the summer by kayaking, climbing or backpacking. In fact, as I look back over the past several months, I wonder “what summer?” Now that it is fall and I am not working as much I am able to enjoy and appreciate the season and even have the time to take photographs of fall leaves in the backyard rock garden.
Randomly distributed brightly colored fall leaves among intentionally arranged rocks must hold some sort of deep, metaphorical and existential meaning, or at least serve as a Zen koan, inviting one to meditate on one’s existence and the meaning of life. What is the sound of one leaf falling? What language do rocks speak?
2 comments:
I have that problem as well. Summer, for me, is not a lazy, dazy time. My 2 teenage boys have wildly varying schedules, my garden and lawns are going crazy and I STILL have to put in my time at work. Imagine that! Sometimes, I just try to hang on until Fall but next summer, I hope to do better. I will build in some time to swing on the porch and float down the river in an inner tube. I will be intentional about learning to enjoy even my most busy season. Hope you are able to as well. I enjoy your blog. I read about it in Presbyterians Today. We are members of Mt Vernon Presbyterian Church in Atlanta, GA.
Thanks for checking in, Sylvia. I have not been to Atlanta for several years. I need to get back there. Today I got to spend the better part of the day kayaking and did not do any work. I'll post about the kayaking trip in a day or two.
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