I grew up outdoors, returning to the nest only to refuel and recharge. As a child of the 1950's and 60's, any entertainment value derived from remaining indoors paled in comparison to what lay just beyond the entrance threshold.
This carried over into my 20's and early 30's when I worked residential construction in Southern New England. There are four distinction seasons, all of near equal length, in that part of the world. So I grew up appreciating, and occasionally cursing, every aspect of Mother Nature.
While it is difficult to pick a favorite season, an exercise in futility similar to picking a favorite child you love the most since each is uniquely beautiful, fall, aka autumn, remains the dominant season of memory during the first third of my life if only for the wonderful fall foliage on display for a few glorious weeks.
Nature's fireworks in all its endless splendor.
Last week I walked outside for reasons I no longer remember and happened upon the scene displayed above. It had been stormy all day and a particularly vicious line of thunderstorms was storming in from the Northwest just as the sun was about to set.
For less than 5 minutes the sun managed to peak below the cloud layer and illuminate a small slice of the trees while wind gusts easily exceeding 30 mph whipped the tree tops into a frenzy.
And there was I, delighted once again to always carry my camera phone everywhere so that I may capture such moments to savor later.
A splash of autumn in the middle of spring. A lucky man I am.
05/12/2017
Cognitive Dissonance
