On this Wednesday morn, during my early run, the heavens slowly evolved from the pitch black of night to a slate gray of low lying clouds and then to a lovely mosaic of gray clouds, clear blue patches, puffy white clouds and filtered yellow sunshine and finally, as the sun endeavored to burn away the cloud cover, to a white and blue porcelain with puffy white clouds adorning a clear blue background. And, though the air was unusually mild for an early November morning, the landscape, with leaf-strewn fields, caramel-colored underbrush, barren and austere trees, and some remaining dark yellow and brown foliage clinging to a few trees, was quintessential November. In a stretch of marshlands, as I ran along a dirt path and wooden boardwalk slicing through marshes, a falcon, regal, sleek and powerful, suddenly burst from a tangled thicket of bushes and underbrush, soared upward through the air and perched itself on the high, extended bare branch of a stark and austere tree that has seen the comings and goings of many seasons. A few minutes later, towards the end of my run as I was circling Spy Pond and as the sun burned away the gray clouds, revealing the blue and white heavens, four white swans, visible through the barren tree branches along the ponds edges, gracefully glided across the ancient pond waters, still and tranquil this day, as the fresh sunlight of the new day glistened off the waters and glimmered off the surrounding landscape, particularly the trees and bushes adorned with dark yellow, auburn, and brown foliage on the ponds distant shore. The simple beauty and charm of the moment, so timeless yet so fleeting, symbolized the essence of Novembers plain and understated elegance.
Posted on: Wed, 06 Nov 2013 16:11:14 +0000
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