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Oct. 7th, 2014 03:34 pm
A change of light
Today was such a perfect autumn day it was almost painful. I had lunch in the sun beneath a golden shower of locust leaves and deeply regretted not having brought a novel along. Hazardously, there was a bookstore half a block away and in short order I strode out with an Atwood novel, another book of Jones' short stories, and something from the 2007 Man Booker longlist. But I ignored all of these in favour of a slim volume of Rumpole stories.
I only read a few pages, however, before my bad conscience got the better of me and I decided to stop skiving and head back to work. I did, however, take a more circuitous route than normal. It's startling how much the trees diverge in their moulting in the city. I guess it speaks to how many microclimes we have around here. In one courtyard, you'll find the maples half bare and in the next they haven't even started changing yet.
But what I treasure most about this season is the quality of the light. I especially notice it now that I'm arriving home just before dusk. The sandstone façades have a way of catching and holding the light so that everything is suffused with an amber glow. Unfortunately, now that they've played with the shuttle schedule again, I'm usually stuck taking one of the busses whose windows are covered in advertising. But at least I still have the walk home westward through a canyon of yellowing leaves.
I only read a few pages, however, before my bad conscience got the better of me and I decided to stop skiving and head back to work. I did, however, take a more circuitous route than normal. It's startling how much the trees diverge in their moulting in the city. I guess it speaks to how many microclimes we have around here. In one courtyard, you'll find the maples half bare and in the next they haven't even started changing yet.
But what I treasure most about this season is the quality of the light. I especially notice it now that I'm arriving home just before dusk. The sandstone façades have a way of catching and holding the light so that everything is suffused with an amber glow. Unfortunately, now that they've played with the shuttle schedule again, I'm usually stuck taking one of the busses whose windows are covered in advertising. But at least I still have the walk home westward through a canyon of yellowing leaves.