Autumn Sketches.

Small House at River in Chartres   Henri le Sidaner
Small House at River in Chartres
Henri le Sidaner

 It is a season which tastes like honey and coffee with soupçon of cognac. It is a season of yellow cats and burning leaves.

Lighthouses always  remind me of  some distant dreams. The light gives hope and creates an illusion of closeness. It makes you believe the worst storm can be weathered.

 No tricks just treats. It is warm and sunny, the air feels like velvet, the rain is preparing for the night, the sun is setting cautiously and the lighthouse is blinking standing guard as it always does no matter what the weather is. 

The rain falling on the asphalt and you can almost feel its bittersweet taste. The sound of falling drops is as if a piece of dry wood is being rubbed with a piece of sandpaper. Cotton candy clouds will soon melt away.

Burgundy, Crimson, Nutmeg.

The watercolour landscape seems a bit washed out by the rain and the picture of some dark foggy city is in sepia tints.

The apples are particularly poignant and the wind rustles my hair as if we have been friends for a long time. It is time to get ready to fly, to move, to leave, not to be afraid to look  through then last window at the back of the train.

Autumn is making everything look vintage, summer is getting old in front of our eyes. I can see million of dust ashes flying in the decaying rays of sun, they are moving upwards and going nowhere.

I put on my French looking jumper with buttons at one side of the neck.

I jump into autumn  headlong, hoping that the heap of leaves is soft and crusty. It is never easy to really part with summer, it is nostalgic, it is like leaving home, it is like opening a letter and not writing back for a long time.  It is rebellious, inappropriately colourful and frivolous.

Cleaning autumn leaves is like cleaning after the party – summer garden party;  colourful straws, popped balloons, plastic packaging, cups, knives, glitters from summer dresses, a bow tie from someone’s fancy party costume. 

The trees continue shedding their leaves, they have been doing it for years,  after a party a la Great Gatsby  all summer long, they are now taking off their clothes, throwing them carelessly on the ground. It looks like the party goes on, a burlesque of a sort where actors  have  5 minutes to change between the shows.

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