Finally, it is beginning to feel like autumn! Those hot, humid days well into October have not felt at all like fall. Thankfully, we've received enough rain and a few cool nights, so the trees are beginning to show their brilliant colors... and it's about time!
The most beautiful tree is a maple in my back yard. That tree, a mere sapling at the time, was hand-picked by Elsie Wilson when Jim and I moved into this house. She marked it with a ribbon because of its beautiful range of colors so Doc would know which one to dig up to bring to Greenville. Every fall, that maple, which stands gloriously tall now, resembles Moses' burning bush... it is aflame with gorgeous yellows, oranges and reds. And, every fall, I have a few moments of sweet, sad memories of a mother-in-law who took such care in making sure we had a tree from "back home" that was beautiful. I've actually been agonizing that, if I move in the near future, can I get a cutting rooted so I can take a piece of the tree with me? I'll have to check with my yard man to see...because I'm not sure I can do without that tree every fall.
Autumn was always my favorite season, partially because of my birthday, but also because it seems like the whole world puts on a full-color show right before everything goes dormant for the winter. Growing up, my family always took a trip to the beautiful North Carolina mountains in the fall on a weekend near my birthday. We took a picnic lunch, including a birthday cake, and rode around admiring the myriad of colors of trees in the "hills". Often we stopped at a roadside stand and bought apples and apple cider before heading home. In 1970, when Jim and I got married, I was a bit sad that I wouldn't get to do the annual trip because of our wedding. How wonderful it was when I discovered that he planned our honeymoon in the hills of Virginia and North Carolina, giving me another reason to make fall my favorite season. It has been many years since I've taken such a pilgrimage, but I find myself thinking about it every fall.
One fall, only a year or two after my marriage, Jim and I were in Madison for a weekend. Elsie was up late on Friday night pre-cooking some of the meats and preparing the vegetables. Saturday morning, a fire was built under a huge cast iron pot in the back yard, and, with the help of Doc, Jim, and Hopper, we combined all the meats and vegetables, many of which came from Doc's garden, in that pot. I can still remember the cool, crisp air combined with the smell of wood smoke and brunswick stew...the best I ever tasted. And, as cool as the weatherman says it will get tonight, a big bowl of homemade stew would taste wonderful!
Having been a science teacher, I know that the shorter amount of daylight coupled with the cooler temperatures causes the chlorophyll in the leaves to stop working and changes the leaf color. I prefer to think some kind of magic has been performed, and that the trees are refusing to go quietly into the cold, dark days of winter. They rage against that prospect with all the fire and emotion they can muster, and I love it every year!
Friday, October 29, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
My Own Little Palace of Versailles
Back in the '90s, I accompanied my son and his classmates on a trip to Europe during spring break. It was one of those whirlwind trips during which we covered Paris, a couple of cities in Switzerland, and a couple of cities in Germany in ten days. One of the most memorable parts of the trip was a visit, on a Sunday morning, to the Palace of Versailles, just outside of Paris. Lately, that beautiful palace has been on my mind, especially in the mornings. Let me explain.
The Palace of Versailles was initially built by Louis XIV, the "Sun King", of France. Good old Louis had the palace built so that one side faced east and the other side faced west, and he had many windows installed on both sides so that the house was brightly lighted all day. So, the "Sun King" was the center of the sun's light all day, waking with its brilliance in the morning and watching it sink into the west every evening. Perhaps it was a bit egocentric of him, but apparently the sunlight was very important to him. (I don't know that his heirs had the same feeling for the sunlight. While they added onto the palace, including building enormous English-style gardens, the symbolism seemed lost on the later generations. And, I won't comment on the attitude and downfall of Louis XVI and his young wife Marie Antoinette!)
Why the history lesson, you may ask. Well, coincidently my house, though much smaller and less grand than the Palace of Versailles, is situated such that the morning sun shines on the front and the evening sun lights up the back. Almost every morning when I get up, sunlight is streaming through the beveled glass oval of my front door, creating a beautiful pattern on the living room and den floors. Since I had a screened porch added on the back of the den, the French doors (again, how coincidental) line up with the front door in such a way that light travels straight through the house. At the end of the day, when the sun is sinking in the west, the den is brightly lighted, and, again, light travels through the house to the front room. Okay, so what's the big deal? Well, it may not matter at all to some people, but to me, that sunlight has become very important.
I've always noticed the difference in mood between a sunny day and a dark, overcast one. Even when I was teaching school, it was obvious that moods changed on those cloudy, rainy days. I did not know, however, how important that sunlight was (perhaps even medicinal) until my husband was fighting a terminal bout with pancreatic cancer nine years ago. He began, as he called it, "following the sun" every day. With chemo, he was restricted from being out in bright sunlight, so he sat in the living room in the mornings, enjoying the brilliant sunlight, and then moved to the den after lunch when the sun began pouring into the back side of the house. It was as if the sunlight kept his mood positive and uplifted him.
A week or so after his death, I visited my physician to get a "doctor's note" allowing me to stay out of work the rest of the school year (2-3 more weeks). Along with his supportive and caring manner, he made a surprising suggestion (a non-written prescription, if you will): "open the windows and doors and let the light in...for if you don't I'll be treating you for depression in 3-6 months!" I immediately began opening the blinds and the doors, instead of "hiding" in the dark feeling sorry for myself. Within a few days, I not only felt better, I found I actually "craved" the sunlight... could not get along with it!
Now, nine years later, I get up every morning, reveling in the pattern of sunlight coming through the front door, and I begin my "rounds". The blinds in every room get opened, one by one, until light is pouring in on the front rooms of the house. The blinds on the French doors are opened, allowing me to see the beauty of the trees in my back yard, some just kissed by the morning sun. Soon, when the threat of pollen lessens, I'll begin taking my newspaper and my breakfast out to the screened porch every morning, where I'll enjoy the sights and sounds of the world waking with the sun. (Needless to say, I suffer greatly on the dark, gloomy days which do, by necessity, occasionally occur!)
It occurred to me recently that, of all the things I have listed in my mind that I'd have to have if I relocate to Raleigh or Greensboro, that I had forgotten the most important: lots of windows and sunlight! Wherever I eventually live, I must have lots of natural light. Like Louis XIV, I need to be in a position to see the light at all times of the day. So, the next time I'm thinking about moving, I'll add lots of windows and sunlight to the list of property features. I can't afford the Palace of Versailles, but I can have a taste of its features wherever I live!
The Palace of Versailles was initially built by Louis XIV, the "Sun King", of France. Good old Louis had the palace built so that one side faced east and the other side faced west, and he had many windows installed on both sides so that the house was brightly lighted all day. So, the "Sun King" was the center of the sun's light all day, waking with its brilliance in the morning and watching it sink into the west every evening. Perhaps it was a bit egocentric of him, but apparently the sunlight was very important to him. (I don't know that his heirs had the same feeling for the sunlight. While they added onto the palace, including building enormous English-style gardens, the symbolism seemed lost on the later generations. And, I won't comment on the attitude and downfall of Louis XVI and his young wife Marie Antoinette!)
Why the history lesson, you may ask. Well, coincidently my house, though much smaller and less grand than the Palace of Versailles, is situated such that the morning sun shines on the front and the evening sun lights up the back. Almost every morning when I get up, sunlight is streaming through the beveled glass oval of my front door, creating a beautiful pattern on the living room and den floors. Since I had a screened porch added on the back of the den, the French doors (again, how coincidental) line up with the front door in such a way that light travels straight through the house. At the end of the day, when the sun is sinking in the west, the den is brightly lighted, and, again, light travels through the house to the front room. Okay, so what's the big deal? Well, it may not matter at all to some people, but to me, that sunlight has become very important.
I've always noticed the difference in mood between a sunny day and a dark, overcast one. Even when I was teaching school, it was obvious that moods changed on those cloudy, rainy days. I did not know, however, how important that sunlight was (perhaps even medicinal) until my husband was fighting a terminal bout with pancreatic cancer nine years ago. He began, as he called it, "following the sun" every day. With chemo, he was restricted from being out in bright sunlight, so he sat in the living room in the mornings, enjoying the brilliant sunlight, and then moved to the den after lunch when the sun began pouring into the back side of the house. It was as if the sunlight kept his mood positive and uplifted him.
A week or so after his death, I visited my physician to get a "doctor's note" allowing me to stay out of work the rest of the school year (2-3 more weeks). Along with his supportive and caring manner, he made a surprising suggestion (a non-written prescription, if you will): "open the windows and doors and let the light in...for if you don't I'll be treating you for depression in 3-6 months!" I immediately began opening the blinds and the doors, instead of "hiding" in the dark feeling sorry for myself. Within a few days, I not only felt better, I found I actually "craved" the sunlight... could not get along with it!
Now, nine years later, I get up every morning, reveling in the pattern of sunlight coming through the front door, and I begin my "rounds". The blinds in every room get opened, one by one, until light is pouring in on the front rooms of the house. The blinds on the French doors are opened, allowing me to see the beauty of the trees in my back yard, some just kissed by the morning sun. Soon, when the threat of pollen lessens, I'll begin taking my newspaper and my breakfast out to the screened porch every morning, where I'll enjoy the sights and sounds of the world waking with the sun. (Needless to say, I suffer greatly on the dark, gloomy days which do, by necessity, occasionally occur!)
It occurred to me recently that, of all the things I have listed in my mind that I'd have to have if I relocate to Raleigh or Greensboro, that I had forgotten the most important: lots of windows and sunlight! Wherever I eventually live, I must have lots of natural light. Like Louis XIV, I need to be in a position to see the light at all times of the day. So, the next time I'm thinking about moving, I'll add lots of windows and sunlight to the list of property features. I can't afford the Palace of Versailles, but I can have a taste of its features wherever I live!
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