Driving the back roads toward central Iowa this week, I was reminded again of the beauty in the changing seasons. Giant, rolled hay bales break up the landform of freshly harvested, stubble fields. Machinery still dots tire-track paths around them.
And the trees! I was lucky to have picked this week to travel. Last week would have been too soon. Next week the cold and wind will bring down most of the colored leaves in the trees and turn those remaining, brown and brittle. As viewing goes, this year’s turning is, in my opinion, above average, with the full range of greens, yellows, oranges, reds, and browns splattered on the clear blue canvas sky, in contrast to plain tan/brown fields at the feet of trees on the hill tops and along the waterways. These pics were taken on my return trip. A cloudy day with periods of spitting rain.
(There is more to read after these pictures)
Two recordings came to mind while driving and gawking at the wonders of nature. The first is Leaves That Are Green by Simon and Garfunkel. Beautiful poetry! Kind of sad. Light and lilt tune.
I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song
I’m twenty-two now, but I won’t be for long
Time hurries on
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your handOnce my heart was filled with the love of a girl
I held her close, but she faded in the night
Like a poem I meant to write
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your handI threw a pebble in a brook
And watched the ripples run away
And they never made a sound
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your handHello, hello, hello, hello
Simon and Garfunkel
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
That’s all there is
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
The other “song” is The Dream from On the Threshold of a Dream album by The Moody Blues. I’m sure I’ve quoted The Moody Blues in prior posts. So many of their songs spoke to me in my youth and young adulthood. Shout out to Sam who suggested To Our Children’s, Children’s, Children as the first vinyl album I ever bought. At one point, I’m sure I owned a copy of them all! My brother, Bruce, always suggests their earlier music, pre-Justin Hayward. Also good stuff. He also gave me an excellent Moody Bluegrass album.
When the white eagle of the North is flying overhead
And the browns, reds and golds of autumn lye in the gutter dead
Remember then the summer birds with wings of fire flame
Come to witness springs new hope, born of leaves decaying
And as new life will come from deathLove will come at leisure
The Moody Blues
Love of love, love of life and giving without measure
Gives in return a wondrous yearn for promise almost seen
Live hand in hand and together we’ll stand
On the threshold of a dream
Also previously mentioned, nearly everything I experience on a daily basis reminds me of a song or some music. Or, in moments of revelation, I create my own. Simply said, I love music!
Ecclesiastes (and The Byrds)
On Thursday, a neighbor showed me a picture of our neighborhood, taken from a drone, showing the fall colors. Beyond the Field Day Brewing Company building and condos are our homes. I can see the red-leafed tree in my back yard, and the one in the picture leading this post! Amazing photograph and colors. Enjoy!
Thanks for the reminder of how well Simon and Garfunkel harmonized!