Friday, October 26, 2012
But this year I've been watching the color change more closely than usual. Like the slow cooling of a valley at dusk, the sun kissed edges of the leaves give way to a deep blush on the entire canopy. The colors are so vivid you won't find them in any painter's pallet--golden leaf tips become a blaze in red, fade to a burnt orange, and on the lowest branches, green leaves yet untouched finish the spectrum.
I admire the trees. Sentries of our landscape, they are the time keepers. The rhythm of the forest, the neighborhood, and the street, they have witnessed it all. Each year they prepare for this very moment. Once they get going, the fall foliage rivals any fireworks display. With their brilliant color, they show us how to live big, live fully, live now. They don't hold back, they don't save some color for later. The trees are not worried that they will run out of beautiful. They are not afraid that it will be wasted. They are not concerned with investing too much in the production and coming out empty handed. They already did the hard work. They set their buds for spring. No matter what, they cannot lose now.
Some think that the tree's colors are an indication that death is imminent....Winter is at their heels after all. But Autumn is not a song before dying. Death is not imminent. Trees don't give up when Winter comes--they take a well deserved rest. And when they wake up, they start all over and do it again the next year...And the next year...And the next. Like Spring represents hope, Autumn is a promise, to weather, to adapt, to thrive.
So, when we falter, we can admire the old Oak, the Sycamore, the Maple, towering above us-- two hundred years of better and wiser and more spectacular.
This Fall, I'm going to face the heartache, shed some tears for what's been lost, and then look back with a smile. The tears mean that we lived.
Celebrate the small victories, give thanks for what you have. Basque in the glorious sunshine. Dance in the crisp air. Breathe deep in wisdom of the trees.
Never ever, ever, ever, ever give up -Winston Churchill
Monday, October 1, 2012
|From the top Photo by LAM|
It wasn't long before the mysterious Victoria Water Lily took center stage. Ruling the pool, Victoria amazonica and Victoria cruziana hold court with their love child, the Longwood Hybrid. Again and again since my arrival at Longwood, I have puzzled over the nickname of this plant--"The Seductress." This was the perfect day to find out the thought behind the name.
To begin, she is the largest water lily in existence. Her round platter shaped leaves can measure up to 8 feet across and can bear a 40 lb. weight. The flowers are large too--about 12 inches. This indicates she is strong--appropriately named for Queen Victoria--but a seductress? I wasn't convinced.
|the insides Photo by LAM|
|She'll get you Photo by LAM|
After spending the day with the Victoria, here is my evaluation of her nickname: She's beautifully alluring. Her pollination story is spell binding. She's devilish enough to puncture your finger or your backside (the needles can poke through the fabric of the waders) and yet she leaves you looking forward to the next encounter. So fascinating is she, that all of the first year Longwood Graduate Fellows are now planning a trip to Brazil just to see her pollinated in her native Amazon...She sounds exactly like a seductress to me.
*For more information on the Victoria, please read Dr. Tomasz Anisko's blog post, Magic by Moonlight.