Notes on October
The fog comes in on little cat feet.
--Carl Sandburg
And on those same little cat feet, it always seems to me on days like today, the summer goes out.
Even more so than the fog, autumn is the most enigmatic of natural phenomena; such incredible beauty arising out of relentless decay. Canadian raconteur Arthur Black once described this season as a velvet-gloved gentleman, tapping gently-but-insistently on our doors to warn of Old Man Winter's approach. It's a nice image, but my imagination can only reconcile it if the gentleman is F.Scott Fitzgerald.
All of which is an extended rationalisation for why I went out to Niagara this past sunny Sunday to see the fall colours, enjoyed them to the full, but didn't take a single pic... then came home and took a bunch of shots during a random stroll down to the Second Cup on a misty Tuesday evening. And have now decided to inflict them on the readership.
--Carl Sandburg
And on those same little cat feet, it always seems to me on days like today, the summer goes out.
Even more so than the fog, autumn is the most enigmatic of natural phenomena; such incredible beauty arising out of relentless decay. Canadian raconteur Arthur Black once described this season as a velvet-gloved gentleman, tapping gently-but-insistently on our doors to warn of Old Man Winter's approach. It's a nice image, but my imagination can only reconcile it if the gentleman is F.Scott Fitzgerald.
All of which is an extended rationalisation for why I went out to Niagara this past sunny Sunday to see the fall colours, enjoyed them to the full, but didn't take a single pic... then came home and took a bunch of shots during a random stroll down to the Second Cup on a misty Tuesday evening. And have now decided to inflict them on the readership.