Drinking Color

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.