“October is the month for painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall so the year near its setting. October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight.” — Henry David Thoreau, “Autumnal Tints”
This is the last week of October. It has been a glorious month. The autumn leaves were brighter this year than they’ve been in many years. We gloried in them while they lasted, but they are nearly gone now. The only trees with color now are the oaks with their rich and rusty reds and the larch with their golden yellow. When they are gone, the dominant colors will be brown and gray and, one day soon, white. Then comes November and the twilight of the year.
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The last bright tree in my yard.
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The Thayns decided to stay a little longer so we had a happy houseful until Tuesday afternoon. They spent Monday doing an Amish Run while Stacey, Hannah, Miriam, and I were at work. That evening we took them on a tour of the Potter County Historical Society. Our Historical Society has a great museum filled with interesting things. One of our favorite displays is a hand-carved automated fair made by Mr. Bartoo with 365 wooden figures on various fair rides all run by a motor and a leather belt. Another favorite is a hair wreath. Hair wreaths were a fad in the Victorian Era. Hair was collected and braided and plaited into flowers and other designs. It’s a bit macabre and utterly fascinating. The one at the Historical Society is especially interesting because it contains the hair of some of my ancestors, Lavern Buck Howe and Simeon Powers Buck Howe, and others.
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At the Historical Society.
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Mr. Bartoo's hand-carved Fair.
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The Hair Wreath.
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The first part of the week was cool and rainy, very autumnal. On my morning walks on those wet days, I noticed the wonderful smell of damp fallen leaves. There is nothing quite like it, rich and earthy. The latter half of the week was very different. It warmed and brightened up. The temperature rose into the 70's. There was a soft, humid breeze blowing from the southwest. It was perfect. Such days make me think of one of my Grandma Rathfon’s favorite poems, October’s Bright Blue Weather by Helen Hunt Jackson.
O suns and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October's bright blue weather;
When loud the bumblebee makes haste,
Belated, thriftless vagrant,
And goldenrod is dying fast,
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;
When gentians roll their fingers tight
To save them for the morning,
And chestnuts fall from satin burrs
Without a sound of warning;
When on the ground red apples lie
In piles like jewels shining,
And redder still on old stone walls
Are leaves of woodbine twining;
When all the lovely wayside things
Their white-winged seeds are sowing,
And in the fields still green and fair,
Late aftermaths are growing;
When springs run low, and on the brooks,
In idle golden freighting,
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush
Of woods, for winter waiting;
When comrades seek sweet country haunts,
By twos and twos together,
And count like misers, hour by hour,
October's bright blue weather.
O sun and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October's bright blue weather.
I was not in school on Wednesday and Thursday and I spent a good part of each day wandering around the yard enjoying the bright blue weather. There isn’t much of anything to do in the garden now, but I raked a bit and pulled a few weeds and daydreamed about next year’s garden. In the afternoon, when it was warmest, I borrowed the Shillig’s power washer and sprayed down the house. With all the dust and dirt washed away, it looked bright and clean. The warm weather did not last. By the weekend it was rainy and cooler again.
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The house all washed and clean.
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As I always do in the fall after the garden has gone to rest, I’ve devised a reading list for the winter. I’m in the mood for history so the list is heavy with some heavier reading. Winston Churchill’s History of the English Speaking Peoples is the first item on the list, a big four volume history. I’ve already started the first volume, The Birth of Britain. Besides being a brilliant statesman, Churchill was a wonderful writer. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature 1953 “for his mastery of historical and biographical description as well as for brilliant oratory in defending exalted human values”.
On Wednesday and Thursday evening, Miriam and Hannah kept their annual tradition of pumpkin carving while watching their favorite Halloween movies. I don’t mean the set of eleven (yes, there are eleven) Halloween slasher horror movies. No, their sort of Halloween movies are the cartoons The Corpse Bride, ParaNorman, the Hotel Transylvania cartoons, and their favorite, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. There were eight pumpkins, all of them my compost pumpkins, and they carved four each. Their imaginations and carving skills are pretty impressive.
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Carving pumpkins.
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Some of their creations.
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All of them on display.
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After having the Thayns at our house last weekend, we went to their house this weekend. The reason for the gathering was Hazel’s baptism. We took our friend Laura Dunn with us because she wanted to see Hazel’s baptism. Tabor’s parents were there and the Fosters came too. We left on Saturday morning and just got back this evening, so it was a quick trip, but we had a good time. We got there in time to watch Hazel’s soccer game. The baptism was later in the evening and it was great. We are so proud and pleased that Hazel got baptized. While we were there we had a lot fun. We love to be together. I don’t know when we will get together next, maybe not until Christmas. So we are home now and tired from all the time spent in the car. I’m always amazed how tiring it is sitting in a car for four hours. But it’s nice to be home.
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At Hazel's soccer game.
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At the soccer game.
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Hazel's baptism.
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At Hazel's baptism.
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