After hurricanes and weeks and weeks of heat, things in the deep south are finally feeling like fall. Fall is one of my favorite seasons. Surprisingly not for the colorful foliage of today’s image, but for the scents in the air. Here in Louisiana, the sweet olive blooms. The satsuma ripens, and the sugarcane is harvested. A plethora of scent-sations. And don’t get me started on gumbo. If someone is making a roux, you can smell it for miles around.
This photo comes from the Northwest where my blogging friend Ramona Behnke lives and writes at Pleasures from the Page. We do not get this kind of color here. Most of our trees are live oaks and pines that stay green and cypress trees that drop brown fuzzies. But I do love a good photograph of fall leaves.
If the trees could play
Margaret Simon, draft
a melody the wind
would sing, we’d know
the secrets of the song
and blend with
harmony.
Write a small poem in the comments. Let the muse take you where it will. I have no idea where my little poem came from. Writing is like that, mysterious and magical in so many ways. Be sure to come back and write encouraging comments to each other. I love it when someone sees something in my poem in a new and different way than I did.
Today is the National Day on Writing, an initiative of NCTE and National Writing Project. Use the hashtag #WhyIWrite.
Reflections on the Teche 
Hi Margaret,
I had seen Ramona’s wonderful photos on fb and loved each so much. Our colors are just starting. Anyhow I did not read anything you wrote before I was able to scratch out this quickie draft! So interesting and I know you will know why.
Leaves of many colors
Brightly arrayed
Nestled together
Not afraid of
Changing or falling or flying around
Gifts for our eyes
Song without sound.
Janet Clare Fagal, draft
Glad I had the muse, the time and a chance to write today. Especially since it is #WhyIWrite day.
[I am off for a compassionate visit to a friend who has no one but me (my husband to a degree and her son in Florida) in the nursing home. It is so hard with Covid and I will stay only 15 min. as per my doctor’s recommendation. I am going to copy the poem onto a paper in large writing and show her, if she is awake. She is hard of hearing and slowly passing on we think. So I am glad for this moment to think of happier things in life.]
For me on Fri. it will be 16 years since my dad passed, he was 85.But while I am sad, I focus on all the good in life, it helps. Always seize the day as he did and as I know you do, too.
Janet,
I love your poem and that our muses were moving in a similar direction today. We had a wonderful visit with Taylor yesterday. I’ll write about it for PF.
Thanks and can’t wait to hear. I keep missing Mon. nights but watch on Instagram.
I like the contrast of nestled together and falling/flying–that’s fall!
Beautiful pairing with the leaves, Janet. I’m so glad you can visit your friend. These days of sickness are so stressful. But, isolation makes it worse. Bless you for being a friend.
There is music in the air! Love the sounds of “arrayed” and “afraid,” Janet. Your poem will be a peaceful interlude for your friend.
Janet, this is beautiful. I especially love “nestled together.” Autumn makes me think of animals nestling; I love the idea of the colored leaves nestling. Your two ending lines “gifts for our eyes” and “song without sound” are perfect. As I hike, I still pick up leaves enjoying each “gift ” and stuff them in my pockets, my husband’s pockets, and our backpack. LOL
Janet, you are sweet to copy your poem in larger letters for your friend. She will be happy.
Surrounded by autumn’s
red, yellow, green
dragonflies wheel and dip–
tomorrow’s promise
“Tomorrow’s promise” – such a hopeful message!
Ah dragonflies and the leaves and the magic of tomorrow’s promise. Yes! Even though our winters are tough, they are beautiful and quieting and always the promise of spring, so each day gives us hope. For dragonflies a mate and a future, right? (I did a little research to see what they are dipping for! So thanks for sending me on that journey.)
Do you know what? I didn’t realize dragonflies and fall leaves could exist at the same time. Thanks! I learned something. And, I echo the love for tomorrow’s promise.
“wheel and dip” is a great description of the way dragonflies move.
Buffy, your poem has a fun rhythm and hope. I especially love “wheel and dip” and “tomorrow’s promise.”
The music in your poem inspired me, Margaret. Thank you.
Autumn’s Song
Leaves of crimson, gold, and brown
form the words
of Autumn’s song.
Come! Hum along!
I love singing alongside you.
Rose, I love your song; great rhythm. I see the contrasting crimson, gold, and brown leaves.
Today is a brilliant blue here and I was able to find a tree actually right in front of our house that is very pretty. There was a big storm with a tornado warning just south of us, so lots of wind took down a bunch of leaves. Hoping that we will see more bright days and more color this year. I spent time with my friend who slept. I can go back next week again and try the afternoon, but she is sleeping a lot and fading. I did read her my poem, so I hope she could hear me.
Humming…and adding some la-las to it. I love the blend of music and color in this poem.
And PS to Rose, I love that we are all singing autumn’s song today!!! Crimson is a great color word to include here…..it really hits the mark combined with gold and brown. We have the best video of our grandgirl at age 2 3/4 or so taking the leaves from the huge pile my husband raked up and gleefully carrying an arm full in the opposite direction. It is a hoot. The fun of those gold and crimson and brown leaves all over the ground. And I am humming along with Linda.
Janet, your friend was probably smiling in her sleep as you read your poem.
Margaret, your poem is beautiful, an orchestra playing, a solo singer, and a chorus! Love that poem. Thank you for sharing your inspiration.
wind twirls red-dressed leaves
yellow vein’s light
autumn’s art
Gail,
Thanks for your kind words and thoughts. My friend is almost 97. I can’t imagine being in her place these last at least 10 years. She has been in 3 different rehab and nursing homes. The last few have been hard. Some day I want to write about it. I was thinking of how the various colors were all so close, nestled, beautiful, together, adding to a splendid variety. A metaphor for how the world could be……I love the golden yellow huge maple leaves that fall waxy to the ground, still with their life, not yet, dried out. Your poem makes me see the art and those dancing red leaves I love swirling through the air. Somehow when I was young as in elem or even high school, I think I just accepted fall as a normal part of life and did not truly see the beauty. I am not sure. But on Long Island, maybe it is not as vibrant there. I should google images to see. I know a friend went swimming in the LI Sound yesterday, so it was still rather warm. Hopefully I can find some time to nestle and write more soon. Thanks, Gail.