Low late autumn light floods the landscape and transforms and changes the balance . . . .
. . even cast shadows become extras on the stage and part of the metamorphosis..
Forms of plants reemerge – just standing naked – but still adorned with jewelry . . .
. . humble fruit trees so full of character . . . .
. . supported, just, or expertly trained in some cases.
Even suburban cotoneaster becomes a thing of beauty. And the grasses, well . . . . ornamental . . .
. . and dipsascus showing nature in roughness and beauty.
I think Rilke might have liked this subtle changing vision and ‘transparency’.
Before you can count to ten
everything changes: the wind flicks
clarity out of even
the high thistle stalks
and flings it in my face,
so close it can’t be seen.
on a border…
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