Become a Fan
Autumn in Alcona
By Jerelyn Craden
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Rated "G" by the Author.
The magic in nature.
Itís autumn here in Alcona, my first autumn and itís embraced me like a lover who knows all the right things to do. The trees are ablaze with colors that ordinarily donít belong on trees: vibrant reds, burning yellows, oranges and tri-colors that make you think somebody slipped something illegal into your mocha java .
The piece of heaven Iíve been invited to use for the winter is no minor part of this scenario as one side of the long one-storey wooden house is ceiling-to-floor glass through which I can see a sweet bay of Lake Simcoe. Its sky partner transitions from sensual, sulky, sultry, moody, playful, and teasing to translucent abalone shell pastels. Subtle ripples of wanna-be waves become textured breakers as far as the eye can see. Then there are the birds.
Hundreds of Canada geese honk and ducks and birds whose names could be Arthur and Madge for all I know, are paddle boats that can fly.
It took me about a week-and-a-half to allow its seduction to take me.
Now Iím a goner. Whatever it wants. Especially after what it gave me late this afternoon.
From the time I woke up this morning I felt on edge and couldnít shake it. For a whole week Ontarians enjoyed an uncharacteristic Indian summer just in time for Thanksgiving. I was one of them. The sun shone every day and was so free of clouds that sucking the sun into a tan was not only a pleasure but an effortless task.
Then this morning, like the shocking breakup of two impassioned lovers Ė a storm took the lake and spanked it -- forced thousands of leaves from their trees Ė scattered the birds, whipped up thick beds of fallen pine needles, carpeted the sky with vicious grey, and spat unwanted rain in its unrelenting path. A clear drop of 30 degrees turned the house into cold storage and forced my bones to tell my brain I was not a happy camper. Like I said, I was spoiled.
I turned the heat up and still felt cold. No amount of layering could keep me from feeling exposed.
All afternoon it was like that. I suddenly wished the wall of glass was covered in thick foam that would keep the storm where it belonged: outside. Finally, it moved on; and so did I.
I wrapped myself in a red waterproof jacket and drove my leased Corolla to the three block shopping area of Alcona to buy some stamps. Then on to Stroud about four miles away for some vino. I chatted with the store folk but was still reeling from the lack of subtle transition from Harvest moon morning to no sign of morning at all.
It was 5:30 pm when I returned to the house and something said, go outside to the beach. Thatís when it happened.
Rainbows. Two enormous rainbows, side-by-side. One so bright it was opaque. Green, yellow, orange, red, blue, purple in a perfect half moon emanated from one side of the bay to the other Ė a whole complete rainbow Ė thick and bright Ė I quite honestly couldnít believe my eyes.
Off in the distance, hundreds of white birds dotted the waves. They almost looked like a reflection of the sun but were definitely birds. Then the most magical thing of all ... a cluster of birds flew high into the light of the rainbows like a spray of stardust, glittering in the sky. It was magnificent.
I lay back in the chaise helplessly awestruck, thinking: This is the best show Iíve ever seen. Amazing. Magical. And that was it. Almost.
It began to rain. I unsnapped the hood on my jacket and covered my head. There was no way I was going to leave now. I wanted to see what was going to happen to the rainbows.
The fainter of the two was the first to fade. Then the highest point of the arch of the master rainbow faded as a hush of foggy vapor swept in. I watched it veil its colors, but could see that it was still there -- like the sun behind the clouds -- always there even when we canít see it. Even when we believe itís gone.
The sun is there, and the rainbow is there. We just have to remember to look for it.
Site: Vessie Flamingo
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|Reviewed by Simon Barreiros
|Beautifully written. Feels like you've led me by the hand into a painting of glorious scenery and feelings.
|Reviewed by Michelle Close Mills
|This is a lovely, peaceful read Jerelyn. Thanks so much for sharing your wonderful day with us...Michelle|
|Reviewed by Rafiriio Daniels
|loved this one!!!!|