An Autumn Evening

Here's a lovely autumn poem by a favorite childhood author, Lucy Maud Montgomery, mostly known for her "Anne of Green Gables" series.  I have read her books countless times, even know parts of them by heart.  I recently discovered her poetry.  Anne would be pleased.  (The pictures are autumn in Phoenix, from my back patio this week.)

Dark Hills against a hollow crocus sky
Scarfed with its crimson pennons, and below
The dome of sunset long, hushed valleys lie
Cradling the twilight, where the lone winds blow
And wake among the harps of leafless trees
Fantastic runes and mournful melodies.

The chilly purple air is threaded through
With silver from the rising moon afar,
And from a gulf of clear, unfathomed blue
In the southwest glimmers a great gold star
Above the darkening druid glens of fir
Where beckoning boughs and elfin voices stir.

And so I wander through the shadows still,
And look and listen with a rapt delight,
Pausing again and yet again at will
To drink the elusive beauty of the night,
Until my soul is filled, as some deep cup,
That with divine enchantment is brimmed up.

Every, Every Minute

"Do human beings realize life while they live it?  Every, every minute?"
~ Thornton Wilder,  Our Town

One of my favorite plays is Thornton Wilder's turn-of-the-century (20th) celebration of the little things of life.  My student teacher just started teaching it to my AP English class this week and I am finding myself itching to be doing it myself!  First of all, it's set in a place I love.  Second of all, it has some profound truths about life in it, making it (in my humble opinion) a valuable piece to bring to the classroom.  Since it's still her time to teach, I am having to content myself with enjoying her fine effort to impart wisdom and joy in my place.

Do we realize life while we live it?  I dare say most of us don't. Wilder's Stage Manager says "No.  Saints and poets.  Maybe they do some."  What does it take to realize it?  Coming to the edge? Nearly falling over it?  Why aren't the ordinary things of our life enough?  Those are some of the things to ponder as she helps our students navigate this lovely portrait of New England life during the next several days...

Coincidentally, one of my Facebook friends posted this lovely photo of the real-life model for Wilder's fictional Grover's Corners.  It's enough to make me appreciate life!  And enough to make me miss living in New England in the fall...

Autumn

"The leaves are falling, falling as from way off,
as though far gardens withered in the skies;
they are falling with denying gestures.
And in the nights the heavy earth is falling
from all the stars down into loneliness.
We all are falling. This hand falls.
And look at others: it is in them all.
And yet there is one who holds this falling
endlessly gently in his hands."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson, Autumn

Another Full Moon--The Beaver (or Frosty)

It gets dark so early now! This is the moon already high in the black sky when I left school tonight. As usual, it was a crazy day, although not as much is it sometimes is with a full moon.

I was trying different settings with my camera. I like the design of the the tree branches lit up by the moon behind them...

By the Rude Bridge

I took a drive out to Concord, MA this afternoon. It was a lovely day for photographing because it was kind of gray and misty making the colors stand out rather brilliantly. First, I stopped at Hartwell Tavern, a place I've driven by many, many times but never stopped to see. As I was walking down the long driveway, taking pictures as I went, all of a sudden a turkey cock emerged from the woods to cross the road with 13 hens following!

I continued along Battleground Road to the Old Manse. I didn't go into the Manse this time (home at different times to Ralph Waldo Emerson and Nathaniel and Sophia Hawthorne), but I did explore the garden. There wasn't much left but some cabbage and a few pumpkins.

Next door to the Old Manse, was the Old North Bridge where "the embattled farmers once stood and fired the shot heard 'round the world." This is not the original bridge; it has been rebuilt a number of times. It's still rustic and inspiring.

I went from there to Walden Pond where I drank in the peace still there from the days that Henry David Thoreau wrote about.

Hartwell Tavern

Hartwell Tavern sits along the "Revolutionary Road," the route the British took from Boston to Concord in 1775 . This November afternoon was gray, but beautiful.

Minds to Think and Hearts to Love

Earlier this afternoon, while I was putting the finishing touches on work for the day, I glanced out the window of my office. The rain-drenched woods were beautiful. Birds were flitting about the branches. The sumac was brilliant amidst the yellow and brown of the surrounding leaves. I paused to admire the panorama as nature gathered its strength for the last hurrah of fall. It's November in New England. I love every glorious bit of it! Even rainy days like today. Maybe especially days like today.

I've been watching Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman for the past several weeks. Let's face it. I'm addicted. I watched it periodically when it originally aired, but didn't follow it regularly. We had boarding at our school at the time, so I was mostly busy elsewhere on Saturday nights. But this fall, I rediscovered it on DVD, and what a treasure! Episode after episode unfolds revealing layers and layers of truth about human nature, some of them warm and comforting, others not so lovely. But all of them, in one way or another, thought-provoking and inspiring.

The episode I watched last night, set at Thanks- giving time, ended with this wonderful prayer, so relevant for today:

Dear Lord,
Let us give thanks to God our Father for all of His gifts so freely bestowed upon us. For the beauty and wonder of your creation, and earth and sky and sea; for our daily food and drink, our homes and family and friends; for minds to think and hearts to love, and hands to serve; for health and strength to work and leisure to rest and play; for the brave and courageous who are patient in suffering and are faithful in adversity; and for all valiant seekers after truth, liberty, and justice, We thank you dear Lord. Amen.

Autumn Beauty

Misty Morning Surprise

Tuesday morning, I arrived at school shortly after 7 a.m. It was a misty morning and just barely light as I drove through the gates. As I always do, I paused to admire the beauty of the campus at first light. That morning it was especially lovely because of the mist and the golden glow of the brilliant, wet leaves on the trees along the edge of the woods. I got my ever-ready camera and took a few pictures, noting as I did that birds were singing from the quiet from the woods.

As I looked around, I noticed that someone was sitting on the front steps. After I caught my breath, I realized that it was one of the early-bird students waiting for someone to come along and let him inside. Crossing the parking lot a little faster than I’d planned, I called out to him, asking if he’d been waiting long. I was glad to hear it had only been a minute or two. “I didn’t mind,” he said, surprising me with his mellow reply. “I like sitting here in the quiet. It’s so beautiful. The birds are singing and it’s kind of cool with the mist and all.” Yes! I thought. He sees what I do each day about our campus: that it’s safe, secure, peaceful, beautiful. It’s especially so in the fall, but it can take be just as wonderful in the spring when the trees are flowering, or the winter just after a snowfall, the kind that piles up all feathery on the branches.

Getting to school as early as I do, you might not think I’d find a lot to appreciate about my early morning arrival. But the sunrises are most often outstanding, and this year’s fall foliage has been spectacular. Everywhere I look, there are sights and sounds that remind me that Jesus is always present. I was glad to discover this week that I wasn’t the only one who found serenity in the beautiful fall palette of the pre-school quiet. I loved that it was a sophomore boy who realized it, too.

R.E.A.C.H.

Our non- teaching holiday stretched into one more day (after Columbus Day), thanks to a teacher in-service on inclusion. Our educational system has just released a manual entitled R.E.A.C.H. on full inclusion of learning disabled children in the classroom and we had two of the committee members present today for the in-service. It was a profitable day. The discussion and activities were valuable. The last thing our group did was watch part of a video that gave us the experience of being learning disabled in a classroom. It was an incredible feeling...a horrible feeling...an oh, so valuable feeling. Walking in another's shoes, even for 15 minutes or so shook up my whole thinking about the way I do some things in my classroom. After all this time! Wow!

The drive to and from the meeting (about an hour west of my house) was just beautiful. This fall is just glorious so far! Around every corner is a nother amazing sight. And the sunset was incredible too, although I couldn't get a good picture of it because it was mostly behind instead of in front of me. All that put together, I didn't mind the long drive at all because I was enjoying what I saw so much...

Beautiful Day

I spent yesterday and today up in Maine with my father while my mother was out of town. The drive up yesterday morning and home this afternoon was just beautiful. I took many pictures while I was driving, and several of them turned out nicely. The colors are especially brilliant this season, making the round trip a great pleasure.

The name -- of it -- is "Autumn"

-- by Emily Dickinson --

The name -- of it -- is "Autumn" --
The hue -- of it -- is Blood --
An Artery -- upon the Hill --
A Vein -- along the Road --

Great Globules -- in the Alleys --
And Oh, the Shower of Stain --
When Winds -- upset the Basin --
And spill the Scarlet Rain --

It sprinkles Bonnets -- far below --
It gathers ruddy Pools --
Then -- eddies like a Rose -- away --
Upon Vermilion Wheels --

Monarch Migration

Plum Island in the fall sees a number of migrators come its way. Today, there were dozens of Monarch butterflies. I thought it was pretty cool. I could not catch any with their wings open, though (except when they were flying, of course). Still beautiful...

Salt Marsh and Water Fowl

This day couldn't have been more opposite to last Sunday when it was dark and stormy. Today was beautiful...cloudy, but bright and breezy and begging for a ride to the north shore. Unable to resist, I hopped in my car after lunch and waited to see where I'd end up.

I really had no plan, but the farther I went, the more it became clear that I was going to Plum Island in Newbury/Newburyport, MA, along the coast. I opted off the highway as soon as I could and wended my way through small towns until I reached the Plum Island National Wildlife Refuge, as stretch of more than 6 miles between the ocean and a salt marsh. It's beautiful. And here's the evidence:

Autumn Equinox

All this from Wikipedia to say that tomorrow is the first day of autumn:

In astronomy, equinox can have two meanings:

• The moment when the Sun is positioned directly over the Earth's equator, and the apparent position of the Sun at that moment.
• The time at which the vernal point, celestial equator, and other such elements are taken to be used in the definition of a celestial coordinate system—see Equinox (celestial coordinates).

An equinox in astronomy is the moment in time (not a whole day) when the centre of the Sun can be observed to be directly above the Earth's equator, occurring around March 20 and September 23 each year.

More technically, at an equinox, the Sun is at one of two opposite points on the celestial sphere where the celestial equator (i.e., declination 0) and ecliptic intersect. These points of intersection are called equinoctial points—the vernal point and the autumnal point. By extension, the term equinox may be used to denote an equinoctial point.

There is either an equinox (autumn and spring) or a solstice (summer and winter) on approximately the 21st day of the last month of every quarter of the calendar year. On a day which has an equinox, the centre of the Sun will spend a nearly equal amount of time above and below the horizon at every location on Earth and night and day will be of nearly the same length. The word equinox derives from the Latin words aequus (equal) and nox (night). In reality, the day is longer than the night at an equinox. Commonly, the day is defined as the period that sunlight reaches the ground in the absence of local obstacles. From Earth, the Sun appears as a disc and not a single point of light; so, when the centre of the Sun is below the horizon, the upper edge is visible. Furthermore, the atmosphere refracts light; so, even when the upper limb of the Sun is below the horizon, its rays reach over the horizon to the ground.

In sunrise/sunset tables, the assumed semidiameter (apparent radius) of the sun is 16 minutes of arc and the atmospheric refraction is assumed to be 34 minutes of arc. Their combination means that when the upper limb of Sun is on the visible horizon its centre is 50 minutes of arc below the geometric horizon, which is the intersection with the celestial sphere of a horizontal plane through the eye of the observer. These effects together make the day about 14 minutes longer than the night at the equator, and longer still at sites toward the poles. The real equality of day and night only happens at places far enough from the equator to have at least a seasonal difference in daylength of 7 minutes, and occurs a few days towards the winter side of each equinox.

Photos: A last rose, flowers at the mini-golf place I took my nephew to today, my niece having a lesson on her horse today.

Autumn Hornet's Nest!

Some of the 1st-3rd graders came running to the office after their recess yesterday to tell me about a hornet's nest in the maple out front. They thought I might like to take a picture of it. They were right =)