Variety

A neighbor recently commented on the unusual patterns of color we are seeing this year on the autumn leaves in our neighborhood. She attributed them to our unseasonal snowstorm and freeze a few weeks ago. I hadn’t noticed the unusual patterns, but I was glad she brought them to my attention. I was reminded of the poem “Pied Beauty” by Gerard Manley Hopkins in which he gives glory to God for dappled things and…

...All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

At the same time, there is beauty in monochrome. In our backyard, the ash trees simply ignored the snowstorm. The leaves were green before the storm, and they remained so after the snow and ice melted. Now, they have turned to their reliable shade of gold.

Not Rodin, and yet…

Not long ago, some trees in our neighborhood common had to be cut down. (Fortunately, there are still plenty of others left.) I hardly noticed the stumps until an enterprising neighbor worked with an artist to decorate them with metal sculptures.

At first there were only a few. Then, more and more began to appear. Each morning brought new surprises: a quail, a spiral, and even a basketball hoop.

One day, I saw a woman walking with her young family. Her daughter ran from one to the next. Look Mommy! Look!