Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Colors

Coxing Kill

Every season has its own special characteristics that make it its own.  Here in the northeast spring, for me, is right around the corner with the arrival of the black birds and the emergence of crocus flowers.  Summer is underway when I see the first fireflies and the days become more humid.  Winter arrives with the first snow fall that can cover the ground in a clean white blanket and I can go out and track animals and get a closer look at their personal lives.  But of all the seasons Fall is by far my favorite.  The signs of its arrival are clear when the geese are flying south and an early morning walk is proceeded by your frosty breath hanging in the air.  The main event, however, is the show put on by the trees.  I look forward to no other seasonal change more than the changing of the leaves.  Though fall comes every year and the trees change every year, don't be fooled, no two autumns are ever the same.  The variables that effect the colors seen every year are endless.  The previous summer may have been too dry or wet, hot or cold.  But all of these come together to yield a peak display that may last for only about a week and then is gone in a heart beat.  In some past autumns I feel cheated as an untimely storm with lots of wind may rob the trees of their moment in the spotlight.  I then have to wait another year for the chance at another display.  But what all of this has taught me is too appreciate every moment of it I can when the moment does arrives, because it may never come again.  Some people say they wish those colors could last the whole year.  I hope that never happens!  It is the brevity of the fall colors that makes them special. It is like the fisherman who practices catch and release.  One moment your standing in the stream with a fly in the water and then you feel the first little tug, then comes the fight, and then the moment when your bring a beautiful little brookie to hand in his magnificent colors.  You hold him for a moment to admire his (or her) beauty and slowly and gently release them back into the stream and watch them dart away.  It was incredible for an instant but it had to end.  But there is always the thought that you will have another chance at him (or her) or one of their brethren and that they may look a little different but they will always be beautiful.


  1. Good post. I am new to your blog. I found it on OBN. I will "follow."

    The Average Joe Fisherman

  2. Thanks I appreciate that. I have also enjoyed reading yours, keep it up.