No denying it. Fall has struck. Certainly there’s no finer way to view the fall color than against a blue sky.
Me? I just about go crazy oh-ing and ah-ing at the tremendous variety of color that pounces on my eyeballs this time of year. Cool air, clear skies, and fall color – oh Oregon of autumn, you’ve won my heart. On my treks out and across town I’m constantly amazed and wowed by the show. At home it’s the native vine maple (Acer circinatum) that has my affection. Not the showiest of trees but there’s so much I appreciate about its display.
First, it surprises me with how it colors. I’ve three vine maples in my yard and each one does its own thing. One is orange and red, one is orange and brown, the third is yellow. And regardless of color, as they hue-up the intricate serrations and veins are ever more evident.
Second, there’s the delicate dance the leaves choreograph in the breeze. Light little wobbles and flits of highly skilled dancers. None of the clumsy rattling and knocking about of the less talented fall leaves.
And then, there’s the way the leaves drop from the tree, wafting ever so gently to the soil. Or was that a late-molting goldfinch alighting on the ground? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.