Saturday Song: Forever Autumn


It’s winter, but some of the autumn leaves don’t care. They were showing off spectacularly during the last break in the weather. Hence, another post full o’ autumn songs and pictures.

Autumn willows and poplar on the pond at North Creek.

Autumn willows and poplar on the pond at North Creek.

The pond’s full up after our flooding. I think they were draining the hotel parking lot into it. On that lovely sunny Sunday last week, it was still and peaceful and reflecting the trees wonderfully.

Close view of willow and poplar on the pond at North Creek.

Close view of willow and poplar on the pond at North Creek.

Really, the trees round here are being remarkably stubborn about the whole go-dormant-for-the-winter thing. There are a few that dropped their leaves as soon as September hit, some that gave in after the first high wind, but many others won’t let go. They’re quite lovely, especially on the drab rainy days when they’re the only bright color around. And of course, when the sun shines through them on the rare sunny days, they are just glorious.

Like Tchaikovsky, who is my favorite composer. A few of you recommended his Autumn Song. I chose this orchestral version because it has got lovely leaves.

Tchaikovsky’s been with me since my headbanger days. Nothing quite like being decked out in metal clothes of the 90s – ripped jeans, steel-toed boots, studded jacket – and rocking out to Swan Lake. No one in my small town ever adjusted.

I got to hear the Phoenix Symphony Orchestra do the 1812 Overature. I had no choice. I would have liked to doze to the sweet strains of classical – it was on a choir trip, and I’d had about two hours of sleep in two days – but you cannot sleep through the 1812 Overature unless you have a pathological condition. It’s the cannon on stage that ensure wakefulness.

Poplars and the second North Creek pond.

Poplars and the second North Creek pond.

I have no idea what this tree is, but it's pretty. North Creek by the 240th St. SE bridge.

I have no idea what this tree is, but it’s pretty. North Creek by the 240th St. SE bridge.

Classical often does what I’m doing to you now – starting out rather low-key and soft and gentle. Sort of like “Waltz of the Flowers,” which Heliconia found, and which incidentally is documentary proof that fairies cause seasonal variation – if you’re using creationist standards of “documentary” and “proof.” I’m surprised Disney hasn’t sued the shit out of the poor soul who posted it.

Anyway. As I was saying, classical has this tendency to start out very soft and quiet and build to a crescendo, sometimes with cannon. And I’m doing rather the same thing to you, only without the cannon. The first movement is over, and now things go from mezzo piano to mezzo forte.

Brilliant autumn color

Brilliant autumn color

Fortissimo tree.

Mezzo forte.

Fortissimo!

Fortissimo tree.

Fortissimo tree.

Fortissimo leaves

Fortissimo leaves

This tree popped, people. You know how you sometimes see things you didn’t expect which are so spectacular you stop and gape and stutter incoherently when asked what you stopped for? That was this tree.

Crescendo

Crescendo

It heard it was officially winter, and laughed. Wind and rain shook and soaked it, and it shrugged them off. It waited for the sun, drew in a breath, and belted out an aria of autumn. An Aki-iro no Aria, if you will – Autumn-colored Aria.

Indeed, Warm as the Autumn Light.

Some of you may forgive me after that. I’ll understand if you can’t. It’s hard finding autumn arias, okay?

Now, from fortissimo, we return to mezzo forte, when we unexpectedly run into a last burst of autumn color down by the creek along the ball fields.

Mezzo forte

Mezzo forte

A sustained note.

A sustained note.

The sun, already trying to set on a winter afternoon, hit these low-lying leaves just right. Brilliant!

It seems like it will be Forever Autumn… so I’ll save some of the rest of your contributions just in case, and end with this from Crudely Wrott, whose title is quite appropriate.

And for those of you who need a sadsack song, this from RQ: because Autumn’s [still] Here:

At least for the moment…

Comments

  1. Trebuchet says

    The last three videos are all coming up as “Gogol Bordello — Imigrandiada…” instead of what they’re supposed to be.

    Maples are awesome!

  2. Dana Hunter says

    All right, I don’t know how the videos got so borked or why it chose a song from my “watch later” list that I haven’t watched in months…. but I think I have it fixed now. Please let me know if it’s still borked.

  3. rq says

    Huh, you and your autumn. Living in the past. :P It’s winter here, I tell you, WINTER!
    And have I got some winter pictures for you. Like this, but without the Walken (we took a bus, har har).
    And some random geology in a building. :) See email tomorrow for details!

  4. Dana Hunter says

    I hope y’all aren’t tired of bright autumn colors, because while most of the trees have lost their leaves, they fell rather prettily onto various things and I’ve got yet moar autumn colors… it’ll never end… argh…

  5. Crudely Wrott says

    That first picture of the towering polar and the rotund willow is wonderful, Dana. It reminds me of the iconic Trylon and Perisphere from the World’s Fair in 1939. Richard Feynman visited that venue with his parents and was quite excited by the experience.

    Link to Wiki article:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trylon_and_Perisphere

    Thanks also for passing on my song suggestion and the kind mention of my nym. Should we ever have the opportunity, the tequila is on me. ;^>