My favourite season is a symphony, a classic tone poem of colour and form, tempo and texture, light and shadow; always changing, always moving toward its inevitable conclusion. The opening movement of this annual performance has been nothing short of magnificent this week in southern Ontario. The high notes of bright sunshine and warm days have been modulated by cool nights and even a scattering of frost. Early morning mist blurs the fledgling grace notes of colour before lifting to reveal ever-brightening yellows and reds.
And it's just way to lovely for me to sit inside writing. The opening to this season of gratitude will not remain so gloriously melodic, and I don't want to miss a single note.
©2013 April Hoeller