Autumnal — nothing to do with leaves. It is to do with a certain brownness at the edges of the day … Brown is creeping up on us, take my word for it … Russets and tangerine shades of old gold flushing the very outside edge of the senses… deep shining ochres, burnt umber and parchments of baked earth — reflecting on itself and through itself, filtering the light. At such times, perhaps, coincidentally, the leaves might fall, somewhere, by repute. Yesterday was blue, like smoke.
~Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Beautiful photo and quote. Autumn distilled.
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Thanks. π It is my favorite season…maybe because it is the season of Hamlet, a kind of existential brooding that the other seasons don’t have…harvest time, yet winter approaches, life’s contradictions on full display.
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Exactly. It’s very much a transitional sort of twilight season…seems to be the favourite of many. I know it’s mine.
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Wonderful and gorgeous colours , I live the autumn.
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That quote really nailed it. π I like the whole edges idea.
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Stoppard really captured in his play the notion of life as it is so often occurring at the edges, perceived in the corner of the eye, unfolding in the hazy boundaries while we are preoccupied by the show in front of us.
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I love everything about this post, Doug! Our red-shirt friend speaks truly.
(Personally, I sometimes like the melancholy of autumn, the way the light changes, and the crisp days where I can make soup and applesauce, but I don’t like the days getting shorter. I guess I’m energized at the beginning of fall, but then I just want to huddle under blankets reading, eating, and waiting for spring. I like the hopefulness of spring.)
I love the photo, too. It’s like Jackson Pollock decorated painted the walls, and then some other artist came in and did the windows and flowers. π
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Beautiful capture! Rather think of Fall as the browns, yellows, and reds, so it’s not depressing (because I do use brown as a painter, but as sparingly as I can:)) This is an opinionated view of an artist, but I can, since most expect it:):)
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i guess i would say to find the colors of autumn depressing is a result of not accepting the cycle of nature, of life and death, as just the way it is, so to speak…to accept it doesn’t mean one doesn’t feel a sense of loss, even grief, only that it just couldn’t be any other way. When life is tragic, or something in the world or in art mirrors that tragedy and the feelings it engenders, it can be seen, maybe, from a distance, as part of the wondrous mixed-up thing we call life. If any of that makes sense. And I would also add that opinions are more than welcomed…society is better off when we not only take seriously our aesthetics and sensibility, but also are willing to put them out there for others to engage and possibly quibble against…they are after all opinions, subject to human frailties as well as strengths (i say this as one who is quite opinionated, to the point being obnoxious, splitting hairs into the wee hours of the morn’). π
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Um …don’t want to embarrass you, but do you know you’re talking to a retired psychologist, and wife of a minister …and grief counseling was one of my specialties…
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my comment was (as so many are) just me pondering out loud, and not meant to be trying to tell you or anyone else what they should know…we all bring our experiences and learnings to the table to share…
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It’s kind of ‘creepy’ (pardon the pun) but beautiful at the same time. I love that vibrant red. Autumn is my favourite time of year, the colours are so rich.
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there seems to a tinge of creepiness in the rich colors of autumn (whistling past the graveyard at night creepy, not Trump creepy).
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Lol! Definitely not Trump creepy.
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That is amazing! I love it! I bet it was even prettier in person π
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it was…the day was particularly sunny for this time of year…in doing some post-editing i seemingly highlighted a more dour ambiance. π
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Autumn is my favorite season as well. Love the photo and the quote.
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π
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Wonderful, simply wonderful.
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π π
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The colors, hues and shades of Autumn in the quote are gorgeous. Beautiful entrance into Winter.
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the passages are unavoidable…we can only hope to find the beauty in them…
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