Our sunny, eager-to-please Iowa fall is doing its best to convert me. I traditionally spend most of the fall mourning the loss of the summer and settle into resigned disinterest when winter shows up. Then I mope until spring.
This long October has been both rich in color and mild enough to take full advantage. So many bright days and honey-gold trees; so little time. When it all gets to be too much, I want to scream. All these pretty things, week after week, and no way to keep them.
What is there to do - gather every perfect, fallen leaf and keep them hoarded in the attic, maybe? Hours and hours wouldn't be enough for my camera to make a complete record of it all, and the photos wouldn't give the panoramic experience of a walk or the swimming through color of every afternoon drive.
It's the same frustration, of course, that I've written about before and will probably always be writing about. When even words fail to contain the uncontainable - at that point I will have reached the end of my rope.
The studio is close to done, and is currently strewn with bits of all the things I have used and plan to use to make it the room my wild imaginings have concocted. It's a beautiful mess - essentially I've gathered together all my favorite pretty things in one place. I would photograph it constantly if that weren't so hugely impractical (although it might keep the mess from accumulating). I went to fetch something across the hall and over my shoulder saw swaths of fabric draped over my ironing board. It would make such a good picture! I thought . . . and then reminded myself to appreciate the view and get on with things.
Because maybe I'm not actually appreciating the view when my immediate response is to run for the camera. Even if the picture turns out well, I may have wasted the enjoyment of sights not meant to be preserved.
So I took in the way the fabric draped just so, and allowed myself a few seconds of recognition. I'll take a picture of the finished product, and that will be enough. And while the festive multicolor plume of our front-yard tree is looking particularly fine this afternoon, that will have to stay between me and the tree.
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