It would be impossible not to notice the presence of Fall in Connecticut. The winds are strong but the skies are clear. Sparkle and glitter on the ocean waters, a splash of vibrant red and a Halloween orange elsewhere.
I am noting all our references to autumn as a season of old age. The brittle, spent leaves, the creviced faces of old people. Why is one worth a premium and the other passed over? The beautiful autumnal display. Maps, telling you where you should be on each day to see the leaves at their greatest brilliance.
Fall, the exhilarating, spirited season. And why not? It follows sultry days of heat and nights of impassioned storms. Not unlike the heated tumult and excess of younger years. Where are the maps urging us toward the beautifully textured faces, with each line in place, the best ones that are both delicate and wise?
The blushing, stunning look of Fall.
daughters
