Traveling from here to there I am drinking color.
This fall it seems the trees are offering a celebration.
I know they do every fall, but this year I find my spirit
bowing in deep reverence to the magic of tree-color.
On my trips to town for groceries, I pull the car over
and climb into the embrace of a forest gone wild. I
wish that photos could capture the exuberance inside
me.
I fall more in love with the land in this little town,
dressed up for the autumnal display.
After a walk in the forest with Pasha,
I sit under a hemlock and swim in a sea of gold.
I traveled north to Vermont to hang a show at the
Bennington Arts Guild, stopping frequently
along the way to photograph.
An overcast day with muted greens and golds,
and the mountain terrain of Southern Vermont.
While driving, I felt as if I was at times within my own
paintings, and took note of how after seven years of
living here, the landscape is inside me.
Driving home, I see a familiar road anew,
noticing how the gentler foothills invite a
more intimate experience of the land.
As I turn onto the dirt road that winds up
the hill to my home, I notice the raven,
and that the big maple is almost
undressed to her bones.
