Pretending to Be

An Impressionist.

I had a lovely walk today and fell in love with the way the light looked.

I wish I could upload the scents and sounds as well as some of the sights I photographed today for you to enjoy. The air here is crisp, like a granny smith green apple. The brilliance of sunlight doesn't warm as it did before, it illuminates, but it doesn't make you swelter.



Cars drive up and down the streets in a lazy fashion, pulverizing the acorns and the green fringed pods that go with them, until there is a haze of brown dust over the streets. The nuts that aren't crushed are kicked along by the tires and go bouncing merrily down the curb sounding like miniature ping-pong balls. An aroma of sunny earth and acorns and the few rotting leaves underfoot wind up under the still-green canopy as I walk along. The more daring of the squirrels are out in the center of the tarmac licking up the nut dust with their little pink tongues, watching with quick dark eyes for the return of the cars.

Further along, the air turns static and the scents of dust and wood and fermenting plants assail my nostrils as the curb gives way to the 'wetlands' park. Here too there are signs that we are tipping away from Sol, and that fall is stealing into the land like some long gone monarch come to reclaim its' throne.For the most part, I still have to look to see the change, the cooler temperatures and the azure skies I can write off as the last of the Summer but it is the browns that are springing up around that refuse to let my daydream continue. It won't be much longer and the smell of smoke rising from chimneys will combine with the crunch of leaves underfoot and I'll see my breath again in the mornings.