Sunday Song: Afterimage of Autumn

Autumn images have proven unexpectedly popular, so it’s a good thing I’m not out of pictures – or songs – yet. But all good things, etc. This will, alas, be the last – until next autumn. Of course, if you’re all very fortunate and I’m unlucky indeed, we may have some spectacular winter shots coming right up. Don’t hold your breath, though. This is Seattle. Gray and drippy is much more likely than white and sparkly.

Let’s get in the proper frame of mind with a traditional rendition of “Sato no Aki.”

I can’t remember what that little instrument is, but I like it.

So, now we’ve heard “Sato no Aki” many different ways, and I shall torment you with it no more. Have some nice colorful leaves as a reward.

Autumn I
Autumn I
Autumn II
Autumn II

Ah, that’s something I haven’t seen much of for weeks now. It’s been doing the Seattle thing lately, where we’ll have a half-day or so of patchy sunshine every two weeks. Some of the leaves are hanging in there, though, grimly determined not to let winter come.

Here’s a song I found surprisingly good. I listened to it because the title was ridiculous. This is a style of music I normally don’t like, but for some reason, this one doesn’t grate on my nerves. I actually quite like it.

There have been a lot of unexpected discoveries, doing this series. Sometimes it’s fun to pick a theme and go spelunking YouTube for songs that fit it, hearing things you might not have listened to in a million billion years along the way.

Autumn III
Autumn III
Autumn IV
Autumn IV

One thing I love about living here: big, silvery raindrops making the foliage look spectacular. Shame about the little white dots of fertilizer…

Here’s a little charmer of a song I’ll be singing at the beginning of next autumn, now I’ve found it.

Autumn V
Autumn V

And here’s a very different “Autumn Leaves” by one of my favorite singers.

Utterly lovely, much like our leaves.

Autumn VI
Autumn VI

 

But it’s time to take it colder, now, with winter coming. Leafhuntress (very apropos moniker) pointed me toward Autumn, and I found their “Cold Comfort” to be suitable to the lateness of the season.

Autumn VII
Autumn VII
Autumn VIII
Autumn VIII

Winter’s arrived. And what we’ve seen here is memory. An “Afterimage of Autumn,” in fact.

Like George said: “an explosion of mind-blowing gorgeous color, then plunged into California Dreamin’ for the next several months.” Although, personally, I dream of a summer house in the Southern hemisphere, to go with my summer house in the Northern, so I never have to put up with winter again. And then, if I time it right, I can have two autumns every year!

Autumn IX
Autumn IX

Who else would like to go down that road with me?

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Sunday Song: Afterimage of Autumn
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23 thoughts on “Sunday Song: Afterimage of Autumn

  1. rq
    3

    The little instrument is beautiful, reminds me of traditional Latvian clay whistles, same sound but less complicated (the Latvian version). I love the sound of these, it’s not too piercing (the clay makes it soft and windy), and the ocarina seems pretty versatile.
    One more autumn song from me to you: Canadian artist Hawksley Workman has one of the saddest autumn songs in my book (playlist).
    Ha, and there’s always Chris de Burgh – not exactly a direct autumn song, but the sentiment is there (yes, I know it’s not your style of music, but I thought I’d add to your eclectic collection).

    Once again, brilliant colours, making (yet another) grey foggy day just a little bit brighter with colour. :) That, and the ballet. (I’d forgotten how much The Nutcracker rocks my world – a lovely secular piece of Christmas magic, complete with wizard, far-off places, giant rats (or shrinking humans, as you wish), lots of glitter, and beautiful costumes.)

  2. rq
    9

    Theoretically, no, because Latvians officially began winter on November 10th, with the Martin’s Day feast. :)
    It just means the dark days will get darker and darker and darker and darker and darker…

  3. rq
    10

    It didn’t occur to me either until today, when I was remembering the story in my head and trying to remember if there was some weird religious angle I’d have to explain to the boys. And I couldn’t come up with any, so it has now become my favourite Christmas(Winterfest)time tradition. Awesome!

  4. 17

    That’s coming in the series on the McKenzie River, which I will get to just as soon as I finish going nuts with directed blasts and beating up on academics for refusing to use correct geological terms.

  5. 19

    If it snows here, you’ll hear me scream all over the world. I hate snow. Actually, I don’t mind it if I don’t have to leave the house for a week. But considering this city has ten billion hills and no snow removal skillz, I bloody hate snow. /whine

  6. 21

    Yes – as long as it’s the most recognizable ornamental grass in existence, I do quite well. :-p I had the advantage of knowing what the whole plant looked like. Dead easy when you’ve seen more than the seed head. And had it pointed out to you as a horrible invasive sea grass…

  7. rq
    22

    I suppose the difference is in how the snow is handled professionally. :) I’ve grown up in far(ish)-northern hemisphere, so it was always as a matter of course, and we’d laugh at alla dem dere poor southerners, whose cities just stopped after a single inch of the stuff.
    And in that spirit, I dedicate this song to heliconia (belatedly) and to you, Dana (in advance)!

  8. 23

    Wonderful pictures, Dana. The brilliant leaves, the setting of seed, the tapestry of summer’s labor fully woven. This time of year, on the cusp between warmth and chill, waking and sleeping, has become my favorite. Thanks for the images.

    Autumn songs. Well two come to mind right away and my choices will surely date me and that’s just fine by me. My musical tastes are, well, catholic, but there is nothing ecumenical in my suggestions. Just two songs that embody the somber quality of the season. The warm and verdant glow of summer is fading and the advent of the long grey cold is at hand. So, these:

    “Autumn Leaves” by Nat King Cole. Short, achingly bittersweet. Best listened to by the fireplace with brandy and a lap blanket. I chose this because, well, Nat King Cole. His discography is something well worth anyone’s attention as is his personal story.

    “Forever Autumn” by Justin Hayward. Somewhat longer, equally bittersweet. Best listened to while walking through a deep wood with a thick carpet of leaves from earlier autumns. I chose this because, well, Justin Hayward. Also because the Moody Blues had a lot to do with how I became who I am.

    I’m sure that you and many others here will enjoy. I’m also sure that some eyes will become a little misty as memories come calling. Good. That’s what this time of year is for. ;^>

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