Autumn and Entropy

I The Tapestry

Autumn

I bumped into an old friend out on the open road one fine October afternoon. In fact, it was much more than fine, it was a remarkably rare late fall afternoon, gloriously mild and brimming with sun-drenched vistas and gold dipped landscapes. It was the kind of day when a warm breeze beckons from high hillocks dotted with pennants of shimmering orange and yellow bearing the standards of Autumn. Where the fragrant breath of a warm wind whispers enticing summons from the valleys and dales of a glowing countryside.

  On that day, the last of the warm winds departed with sweet tidings and balmy farewells. Wafting through dappled groves of glistening amber verdure in a melodic swansong accompanied in serendipitous chorus by the swaying Birch, ash and oak. The seasonal procession was passing through and its heralds of wood and stone and sky bid all who would listen to rejoice in harmony under its golden marquee.

  It was indeed one of those rarest of days, a sublimely temperate and comfortable October paradox, saturated in rich crimson and zesty citrus hues. Nature, the quintessential artist commanded the easel that day and remade each landscape into wondrous living tapestries. Shades of lemon and peach and rose oscillating in the radiant bloom of sunshine created such palettes and harmonies, no descriptions befitted them. For they were the colors of tenuous life that occur only during the last moments of waning fall and the final harvest.

  I cherished those singular moments more than most others as I knew what lay in store in the coming months. Deep in the root of my Canadian bones I was loath to watch the last drops of fire and gold descend from those maples up on the hillocks. I was loath to forget the sweet aura carried on the back of a warm breeze fresh off the bay. I loathe what lies in wait as the days grow short and the shadows grow long, and I cannot help but suffer a tear as I rejoice in autumn and watch as its sanguine procession fades.

  The passing of autumn and the waning light of the sun created a deep despondency within me that required all the stoic strength I could muster to abate the tide of that emotion. But, I shall not speak of such things for that exceptional October eternity was as fine a thing as any and deserves its revered place in my memory.

A place where troubled thoughts and dim providence hold no sway. This tale is not about terrible and dire premonitions or adversity. This tale is about that friend I spoke of, he who travels alongside me down all the strange and wondrous roads. This tale is about him.

Stardust

  At exceptional times of the year, the collision of light at the ethereal frontier of our pale blue dot, refracted in a particular sort of way causing the long shadows of fall to deepen into bottomless wells. Crashing against the heavens, those photons deform the waves and coax the colors to bleed warmth and to saturate the world in rich hues. October can be a glorious month as the infinite scattering of atoms and colliding particles shift the spectrum in a wild tangent away from the crisp blues and lush green's of the adolescent months.

  I travel across that seasonal tapestry glowing in titian light, as Euclidean geometry and Einsteinian law dance in unison and tint the world in all the magnificence that is autumn. I stop here and there to bask in the splendor of those scenes but take no notice as that ancient light ends a long journey across unimaginable cosmic gulfs and across the blue threshold of the earth to come to rest upon the apex of my vision.

  I did not notice the imperceptible starbursts igniting across the sea of rods and cones in the boundless depths of my shining blue eyes and noticed only the radiance of ephemeral Autumn. I blink once not wanting to miss a moment of this fleeting paradise as those stellar remnants scribe a mystic chemistry and etch a permanent record of their ageless journey into my memory.