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The Notch (again)

I’ve shot a lot at Smuggler’s Notch over the last year and a half, so going back up during peak foliage was questionably stale for my camera (though never for my eyes!). So this time I went with the intention of capturing things I have not before.I’m a thorough wanderer, so that was no easy task and I’m not so sure I accomplished it. ;)

foilage

bjǫrk

Not-the-notch

 

(Okay, that last one isn’t The Notch. It is sunset from US-7.)

Flickers of Autumn

linger

linger

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A Little More Autumn

First Breath of Autumn on Bucklin Trail

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Autumn

fire rust    Autumn brings many pleasant things. The apples come off of the trees, ripe for eating. Cider begins to flow and find its way into the stores. I begin mulling my cider and baking pies. The leaves turn to fire and drop to the ground. The trees become bare and everything in this world begins to die. Autumn is the season of bounty and waning, of that final passionate explosion before the cold stillness of winter.

Solar Autumn runs roughly from the 21st of September to the 21st of December (varying a day in either direction from year to year), from Autumnal Equinox to Winter Solstice. Meteorological Autumn goes from September 1st to December 1st. Culturally, we tend to consider autumn as lasting from Labor Day Weekend to Black Friday and the weekend after Thanksgiving. However you reckon the span of the season, autumn is the maturation of the year and a time when mischievous spirits run stronger than any other part of the year. Whether you interpret spirits to mean spectres or human moods, the trickster is surely present in each and every one of us. You don’t have to be so strongly associated with darkness to feel that Hallow’s Eve spirit. Nearly every child dresses up as either a ghastly visage or beloved pop culture icon, goes door-to-door, and demands a sweet treat. If one does not give the little hooligan an offering of appeasement, the mischievous nature may take over and pull pranks on you and your home! Adults find time to let their oft-suppressed rambunctious sides out as well. (see: Jenna Marbles’s rant about sluts on Halloween)

appppppppapple    The first thing that comes to mind when I think of Autumn is apples. I thoroughly enjoy apple-picking. I have ever since I was a child. It’s more than the extremely fresh apples that are the fruit of the labor. It’s walking through an orchard full of twisted trees while an almost-crisp autumnal wind pushes at your back. It’s reaching up into the tree to find that perfect apple. It’s admiring one’s surroundings. It’s a short hike in a lovely man made wood. Apple picking is more than just the apples. That first bite into the Newtonian muse, fresh off the tree, is an experience that simply does not happen from a store bought pome.

pumpkin    In the year’s old age, when Demeter begins to cry and Hades’s fires grow stronger with passion, nature gives the most beautiful show. The leaves of every tree not deemed an evergreen turn from green to bright yellows, oranges, reds, and browns. Demeter weeps for the loss of her daughter, Persephone, and the subsequent autumnal rains rust the green away. A world of fire is born. The leaves, once vibrantly green photosynthesizers, now begin to change color and die, growing brittle and falling away as the trees retreat into dormancy for the winter ahead. We harvest our crops and begin preparations for the winter, when everything is absolutely dead, still, sleeping soundly in a crystalline purity. This last show of life, that spark at the moment of death, is breath-taking no matter how many times you’ve experienced it.

Home & hearth still have meaning to some, and this is so much more important this time of year than any other. Autumn is beautiful. I wish to mull some cider and sit next to a fire, eating the fruits of my year’s harvest with someone I love. I wish to write cold and hollow music, melancholic and melodic echoes of passion. I wish to celebrate with great festivity the Season of the Dead… the Season of Fire.

Here is some Autumnal themed music for your pleasure (after the jump).

 

I move amidst patches of rust and fire.

I move amidst patches of rust and fire, blood and ire, inclement desire. The autumn is the explosion of life, the last great breath of the year, the climax before the descent. The final seeds cast, fruit drops to earth, cloth to bedside floor. In brilliance and passion, the world around me seduces my senses with its magnificence and I relent. I give, forfeit resistance, and drown in its splendor.

Autumnal Consumption

Reading
   Mirth Of A Nation, various
   Common Sense, Thomas Paine
   Tropic of Cancer, Henry Miller
   The Dharma Bums, Jack Kerouac
   Beneath The Underdog, Charles Mingus
   Sigrid And Gudrun, tr. JRR Tolkien
   Books of Blood 1-3, Clive Barker
   Going To Meet The Man, James Baldwin
   The Way To Rainy Mountain, N. Scott Momaday

Listening
   Creaming Jesus
   Death In June
   Subtonix
   Shadow Project

Viewing
   Elfen Lied
   Nadja
   Suspiria
   Avengers
   The Dark Knight Rises

When Leaves Turn To Fire…

When the leaves turn to fire, I come enthralled by desire. Autumn is the season which births my passion. I writhe in the death throes of the year. Days shorten and cool. Nights carry the final brilliant climax of life on the air.

This is a season of fire. Whose flame do I see burning around me? I have your scent. I hunger. Howl to the moon with me and let go of restraint. Your blood is on my hands and I have your scent.

Autumn Air

Such a nice, chilly morning. Where the crisp air meets me, I wake. The living green of my world turned to fire overnight and begins to push for its brilliant last climax before the dead season.

November Grey

   Samhain is over and the latter half of Autumn is well in its chilled breath. In November, death has settled into the world and the ground is beginning to harden. The lights of December have not yet reached their prime. Snow taunts and teases and it spits flurries upon us, not yet ready to lay its blanket down. The brilliant, fiery leaves of Autumn’s entrance have all fallen, turning brown upon the earth. In this period, I will make desolate music, before life returns in the joyous celebrations of light that come wrapped around December.

 

This month is grey.