Autumn Leaves

 It's just the beginning of Fall for those of you in the north of the country. It's also the time of year I begin to miss north the most. 
This week's post is a medley of song and poem that puts me in the perfect mood for enjoying the splendor that is autumn in the north, even if only in my mind. The Dvorak, below, came on the radio one morning a few decades ago, as I was driving my middle son up a hill and under a splendid golden canopy on the way to his school. It's one of those "burned into the mind" memories. I wonder if he shares the same one?

Many evenings, in every season, were spent watching this delightful  tv show on PBS. I have a thing for Leo McKern, his portly curmudgeonly lovable self was perfect for portraying the character Horace Rumpole.  For some reason the season of autumn brings him to mind, often. I tried to find a clip of an episode where he reads the poem, No! by Thomas Hood. I will have to link a printed version of it, below. If Rumpole didn't make you want to sip tea and savor poetry I don't know who could.

Beautiful images, easy to conjure

old feelings easy to hold

Thrilled by the chill 

alert in the coolness like deer in a pasture

Pleased just to stand there 

in the scarlet, the brown, and the gold

One autumn winter when I was in my early twenties, I remember watching this television series. I fell in love with the theme song. I can still remember my little son and I carrying in our groceries to our 2nd floor flat. Making hot cocoa for us both, him getting out toys to play with while I put on this tv show:

The year I enjoyed Love for Lydia may have been the same year I read Fata Morgana, a wonderful story by William Kotzwinkle. From Goodreads: A blend of fantasy tale and hard-boiled detective story set in Paris in 1861 features a French police detective who sets out to investigate a conjurer whose fortune-telling machine is sweeping Paris.  I attach some images from Internet Archive, where you can join for free and read at your leisure:

Even in Southwest Florida you get an occasional colorful scrub oak leaf simply from  seasonal drought. I smile and think, thank you, you crazy little leaf, and sometimes pick it up and carry it for awhile.

Any time, though, I can dip into the music, poetry, stories and images that can carry me to my favorite season. Something special, for which I am grateful. I have posted California Dreamin' many times because it is a song loaded with meaning for me, and for the sake of continuity I'll share it here, again, but another version I think you'll like:

*photo of Robert Grant my paternal grandfather, animal lover and gentle man. And even though it's not necessarily fall in the photo, it has random colorization that makes it seem so.

~Oldgirl aka Dorothy Dolores