High Winds and Purple

Michaelmas Daisies
(Aster novae-angliae)

The calendar year wanes, and the world is slowly turning gray and brown, soon to be blanketed in white and pale crystalline blue. One can hear winter in the hollow wind and blowing trees, in the drifts of leaves slowly piling up in village streets.

One craves color, not just any old color but shades which are exuberant, dazzling, intoxicating and downright riotous. A velvety taupe and cream milkweed pod disclosing its dancing silk in late September is a wondrous thing, but thank the Old Wild Mother for color.

Think bronze chrysanthemums, burgundy sedums and fall blooming wild asters in gold and purple. Think scarlet maple leaves, russet oak and golden birch. Think autumn nights when the sun goes down in flames over the western hill. Think cold clear mornings when you can see your breath and the rising sun turns the whole cosmos gold, erasing for a few precious moments the shifting ephemeral boundaries between land and water and sky. Wow....