Every Leaf

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;

Lengthen night and shorten day;

Every leaf speaks bliss to me

Fluttering from the autumn tree.

…..

– Emily Bronte

I’ve always loved this poem. Particularly the line “Every leaf speaks bliss to me”…. And they do. As an artist who does a lot of looking-at-nature, leaves fascinate me and seem to me to be works of art unto themselves.

These leaves, from my ornamental cherry tree in the front yard, are stunning…luminous. I picked them up off the sidewalk as I approached my front stairs the other day.

In the background is a lovely scarf I bought from Maiwa Handprints on Granville Island. It has   three layers of feather light wool, interwoven to connect them together, in many gorgeous warm shades. It’s a work of art too.

William Blake said, in his ode “To Autumn”: “pass not, but sit…. Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers”….. Yes, the lusty song of autumn, the sumptuousness of colour, of maturation, fullness, richness. It’s been a delight.

Warm and Fuzzy Saltspring

When I was on Saltspring Island last summer, we visited Sunset Farm, where they raise sheep and sell a variety of woolen products. I was enchanted by the beautiful blankets they had. Yes, the wool had come from their sheep, then it was sent to Prince Edward Island, on the other side of the country, to a woolen mill to be woven into a blanket, then back to their shop for sale. There was something special about purchasing that blanket and knowing the gorgeous pastoral landscape where the sheep had roamed and in general, the beautiful island that I love to visit. When the blanket warms me at night, I feel there is so much more of a connection.

I also made cupcakes today, with a gluten free flour blend – from a company in Burnaby that is only a few miles from here. Then I was admiring my new dishwashing liquid (so hard for me to find scents that I like and can tolerate) and it said on the bottle that it was made in Burnaby too!

I’m so happy to support businesses, and people, that may live down the street from me, that may be my neighbours. And I’ll be happily counting sheep – familiar Saltspring sheep – when I go to bed tonight.