Just a few weeks ago autumn was still amidst its fragrant, natural bloom of color and leaf. Circumstance and schedule largely kept myself and the Vespa indoors engaging other worlds and foes. But Kim, Junior and I did find a few moments late one afternoon to drink in the spectacle that comes to central Pennsylvania each fall and let the autumn light wash us clean of responsibility and concern, if only for some dazzling minutes.
On the way home from an appointment, the light guided our little car towards Galbraith Gap and a corridor of land recently acquired by the Commonwealth that leads into the mountains.
Long shadows imply a rapid change in the day as the sun plummets toward the horizon. I’m convinced the transition is faster in autumn and winter. My camera watched Kim explore as Junior watched me, waiting for a tennis ball to emerge from a pocket. Funny how attention, human and canine, can be so focused and connected among a group of people.
As the remains of the day began to fade toward dusk I watched as Kim worked with her camera. She considers me the photographer in the family but that’s purely a one-sided judgement. In the art world arena she’s sold more photographs than I have. She shoots more that I do. And her relentless approach to a subject is dizzying. I’ve learned much from that approach though must confess I cannot bring the focus of mind or will to bear on any subject. It remains a goal but I suspect I don’t have the intellect or obsessive capacity for it.
Due to a chronic medical condition her productive time is limited, strangled really, to a few short hours each day. Some days less. In any good relationship people find strength in one another. How those are embodied are different, and for some perhaps unknown. It’s clear to me though. I’ve watched Kim struggle with loss and defeat, but she returns over and over in enthusiasm and desire. In the autumn light I’ve had the chance to witness the soaring of human spirit and be able to say, “Hey, that’s my wife!”.
I hope I can offer something useful in return because Junior just wants fed, played with or another biscuit…
That first picture, with the shock of yellow color among the already bare branches of the nearby trees, very nice; except for the gate barring further exploration.
That gate along with a few other icons of trespass prevention has activated a post idea. It’s been rattling in my head for a few weeks now. Maybe when I have the right pictures I’ll actually try to write it.
You and I are lucky to have such wonderful wives.
I agree. Kim has taught me a lot and pointed out some of my less than perfect behaviors!
Beautiful photos. I still enjoy seeing the colors on the trees especially with that warm light.
Autumn light is unique. I’ve seen similar effect in Utah with a completely different landscape. Just something strange about how the light arrives on the earth.
Hi Steve,
I, too, agree that there is something magic that happens with the light during Autumn. Akin to the golden hour or the blue hour of the day, only it lasts throughout the day showcasing the scenes with the shadows that fall from the sun. Those who see it, drink it in and capture it are always enriched by it. Steve, please give Kim my best. I have chronic, and sometimes acute, Fibromyalgia. It often robs me of time for my photography and other interests. I do find scootering is one of my biggest and greatest reliefs from it. Riding the Vespa allows me to soar to places I could not otherwise go on foot. Please tell her I shall think of her often as she meets her struggles with her illness.
Autumn is one of the things I miss most about living in upper North America. Beautiful reflection on Kim and the quality of your relationship. You are obviously both fortunate to have found each other. Shalom
A heartwarming photoessay that reminds me what I miss most about Centre County: my dear friends: the land, and their love for the land and each other. Most of all, their talent in expressing their feelings. In your tribute to Kim, you remind us that pushing through the hard and painful challenges in life can bring out our humanity if we let it. Kim is an expert in that. Thanks to you both for brightening my day.
Hello Marian. Good to hear from you. Kim and I keep moving along and take the days as they come. Soon the snow will transform Centre County into another wonderland.
This heartwarming photoessay reminds me of what I miss most about Centre County:
the land, good friends, and their love of their surroundings and each other. Their talent for expressing their feelings is what keeps me coming back to Scooter in the Sticks. This post is tender in its tribute to Kim’s making the most of her good moments each day. It reminds me of what it takes to be fully human and I thank you both for this autumn gift.
This heartwarming photoessay reminds me of what I miss most about Centre County: good friends, their love of the land, and their love for each other. Steve, your tender tribute to Kim and her ritual of making the most of her good moments remind me spiritual practice comes in many forms. You have each given me a gift today, for which I am thankful. Go in peace!