As Autumn nears its end, my verandah view is no longer filtered through the pink and burgundy curtain of the ornamental grape vine leaves, for they have all fallen, leaving long lost woody stems that reproach me as I pass, waving bony arms and begging to be pruned.
Now I look through to the darker native forest via a tracery of gold and butter yellow, from the wisteria. Grown from a cutting, this wisteria has never flowered, but I don’t care, for I love its summer gift of shading green and its autumn golden glory.
On the northern corner of the verandah, the local bees are appreciating a different type of gold as they nuzzle into the fuzzy hearts of the Crepuscule climbing roses, all peach and pink and satiny-smooth, with a touch of the ragamuffin and a scent of summer-memory, as it heads into its second flush of flowers.
You can keep sappy Spring; I’m an Autumn girl. And this is my kind of gold.
Hi Diana! Thanks for visiting and commenting. Painting and writing can be so complementary; we need all the tools we have to interpret the fabulous sweeps and details of nature to others, don’t we?
Happy to share my mountain life this way.
Hello Sharyn Munro, I like your blog. I think I will like your book even more. You describe nature and color well and inspire me to write as I have wanted to. I am a landscape artist and harmony is so beautiful in nature. You are creative and I would like to trade places with you since I live in a big city. It sounds peaceful and ever changing where you are. Thanks for the taste of your exsitence.