FALL, the most invigorating season in New England. The season of gorgeous color combinations that can make anyone swoon and head over heel. The season of apple harvest, pumpkin galore, beautiful foliage and the crisp air. Fall in New England is extravagant and exuberant. I wouldn’t want to miss one fine day in the fall so to feel its beauty. I would wait for the blue sky and sunshine to go out and take my camera with me. But sometimes I didn’t get the chance to do that and rely mostly on my camera phone. Usually this happened when I was out and about in downtown or around Yale University campus. I pass by the campus many times at least once a week. I love going about there between the stone buildings and admire the season as it develops. I love the arrogancy of fall, of its splendor that entices my soul and makes me exclaim in delight, “Wow!”
In secret we met-
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.
(George Gordon Byron)
“It was the way the autumn day looked into the high windows as it waned; the way the red light, breaking at the close from under a low sombre sky, reached out in a long shaft and played over old wainscots, old tapestry, old gold, old colour”.
– Henry James –
It’s November again and I have been lacking in writing my journal. The long gloomy days have produced some restless thoughts. Autumn begins to unravel and soon all the trees will be bare. Yet another November comes to mind and the flame that has hidden, arises.
HIDDEN FLAME – John Dryden
I feed a flame within, which so torments me
That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me:
‘Tis such pleasing smart, and I so love it,
That I had rather die than once remove it.
Dear old boyfriend,
I found your emotions typed neatly on a piece of yellowing paper.
I read the contents of your heart in the A-B-C’s of your unsophisticated language.
In those whirling-twirling, upside-down and lopsided world we called “our world”, I was yours and you were mine.
I listened to your relentless, unimaginative words upon words from your lips.
You whispered some nonsensical dreams that I didn’t mind at all. And I had heard them in the hundreds hours we shared. I have felt them through your fingers.
Then you came, and you have come, and you made me glad. You made me mad about you.
We spoke about life, though we must’ve sounded pathetic.
Did we have some memories then? Here and there, have you ever looked at them? Searched for them, deep in your mind?
Then, you remember. I, too, remember a part of us. The way we were.
I called you ‘my beloved’ and you let me. You let me.
I let you submerged in my ambiguity and I called it LOVE.
D. Yustisia 05/28/15
Once upon autumn, a girl was standing under a gingko tree. She asked me,”Why are we here? It’s cold”. I told her, it’s such a beautiful Saturday morning and I didn’t want to miss it. “Let’s play with the leaves!” I said to her. The girl picked up two leaves and played with them. Then she crouched down, picking up some more. She was surrounding by the sea of yellow leaves, how pretty. I asked her to play around and be silly. The girl smiled, unsure, but she went ahead. She threw her arms above her head and the gingko leaves came raining down on her. I saw her big smile and it made me smile.
Enjoy the season, sweetheart! Embrace autumn!
I walked among the trees this afternoon, at the Upper Green of the ever-busy New Haven Downtown, and most of them are shrouded in yellow and copper. As I walked around, my mind tried to picture the place once, a burial ground where hundreds of loved ones were buried, a long-long time ago. While the living are walking, riding their bikes, jogging, sitting on some benches and chatting up some non-sense, those who passed away are sleeping soundly underneath. The world above them is shivering every time the wind blows and muttering about the gloomy weather. Autumn is starting to wither and the world is gray.