Ode to Fall

They say that all good things must end someday
Autumn leaves must fall
But don't you know that it hurts me so
To say goodbye to you
Wish you didn't have to go
No, no, no, no

A Summer Song, Chad and Jeremy

Yesterday was the autumnal equinox – otherwise known as the first day of fall - one of two times each year when the tilt of the Earth's axis is inclined neither away nor towards the Sun, the center of the Sun being in the same plane as the Earth's equator. From now until the Winter Solstice, the days will continue to shorten as the nights lengthen. That's the science.

Here at Seven Springs Mountain Resort, for the Mother Earth News Fair, the leaves of deciduous trees are beginning to change colors. And while there's a scientific explanation for this, too, the palette of this flamboyant display will eventually produce art that rivals the paintings of Monet. Hickory, Maple, Sycamore, Ash. Black Cherry, White Popular, Cottonwood, Sassafras. It's all part of nature's way, allowing these trees to survive the harsh winter. I could tell you while chlorophyll produces the greens of spring and summer, carotenoids and anthocyanins account for the yellows, orange and browns, reds and purples, respectively. But that would be like me telling you a conflagration of neuro-transmitters and hormones are what accounts for the feelings we associate with falling in love.

I have this eidectic memory. It is fall of 1965. I'm out for a solitary stroll in my neighborhood. There is woodsmoke in the crisp, October air. All at once, a sweet melancholia washes over me, a sad longing, an elusive sense of identification and meaning - my first awareness of knowing my true emotional nature and being in harmony with nature. And while it wouldn't be released until December 3, The Beatles Rubber Soul became for me evocative of that fall. Though I'm a dyed-in-the-wool fan of all their music, that sixth studio album of theirs will always have a special place in my heart ("but of all these friends and lovers...").

Tonight I painted with food. I can't help myself, I'm an artist. Some will tell you cooking is not a legitimate art form. Don't you believe them.

Picture this. Woven wood bowls. Pumpkin and butternut squash soup seasoned with yellow curry. A melange of florets of broccoli, yellow and green beans, julienne strips of red bell peppers, yellow summer squash.

It was my Ode to Fall.