not yet leaving the leaves
I absentmindedly picked up these two leaves because I liked the contrast of their rich colors. I thought I would add them to my growing, almost-out-of-control piles of workshop material, and maybe photograph them later. But in my cupped palm, as I walked back to the house, they slid into this position, like two hands with different colored skin connecting palm to palm. I thought, well, maybe the day after an election is the right day to post this image. Anyway, here’s to grasping for moments of whispered unity when division runs shouting through the streets.
two white oak leaves in November (Quercus alba)
blushing symmetry
Burning bush is indeed remarkable in autumn. But my favorite ones are the bushes that do not get enough sun, and turn pink in fall instead of scarlet red. The softer the pink, the better as far as I am concerned. The beautiful symmetry––both horizontal and vertical––of these leaves make them one of my favorite materials to make repeating patterns and tessellations with. But alas, it takes patience to line up all those leaves just so, and this autumn has been so unusual and splendid that it is taking every minute of free time I have just to capture it before it all disappears on the wind.
burning bush in autumn (Euonymus alatus)
It is the harmony of the diverse parts,
their symmetry, their happy balance;
in a word it is all that introduces order,
all that gives unity,
that permits us to see clearly and to comprehend at once
both the ensemble and the details.
–Henri Poincare
no frost yet
I just googled to remind myself when the average historic first frost is in the Twin Cities: “The average or typical first fall freeze in the Minneapolis-St. Paul metro area is October 10 to October 11”. Welp, so we are two weeks behind average, which is not unheard of. But what is crazy is that I just looked at the forecast and there is no frost threat for two weeks. I am making hay, as they say, capturing as mush of the remaining fall color as I possibly can because as soon as November’s gray blanket descends, STILL will start to look very different.
Autumn Blaze Maple (Acer × freemanii ‘Jeffersred’), a hybrid tree bred from a cross between red maple (Acer rubrum) and silver maple (Acer saccharinum)
leopard prints and keystone species
I sort of ignored the oaks this year. So many of our other plants––especially the sumacs––turned such distinctive and unusual colors this fall that I didn’t even take notice of the oaks. But the leopard print effect on the leaves of this red oak grabbed my attention yesterday while I was out walking.
In the North, the oaks are considered our keystone tree. Are you familiar with keystone trees? A keystone tree is a species that has an outsized, disproportionate impact on its environment relative to its abundance. Oaks (Quercus) are widely considered the pinnacle of wildlife value because they hold the entire food web together by supporting hundreds of species of caterpillars, birds, and mammals. If a keystone tree is removed, the ecosystem radically changes or collapses.
northern red oak leaves in autumn (Quercus rubra)
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I learned about keystones about 100 years ago in grade school and how they kept bridges up, so it makes perfect sense about keeping the environment from collapsing
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going all in
Any of you who check in here regularly probably know by now that when we Hoffmans are piqued by a new interest we go ALL IN. We don’t just casually learn a few facts nor spend an hour down an internet rabbit hole to satisfy our curiosity and then move on. Ohhh, no. We can become singular in our attention, and our devotion, and maybe even borderline obsessed. Right now, Steve is in that uniquely Hoffman place with hazelnuts. He is under assignment to write an article on them, due next week, which triggered an entire autumn affair. So now we buy hazelnut oil, hazelnut flour, hazelnut cookies, hazelnut granola and trail mixes, any and all chocolate bars with hazelnuts, and of course, the nuts themselves. Steve has ordered books from Europe, visited hazelnut farms, harvested with the U of M researchers, and walked trails with experts. He probably has enough material to write a book on hazelnuts. But instead he has only a 1200 word article to work within. But that is how we roll at our house. These are hazelnut leaves from the U of M’s hazelnut research center. Hazelnuts are in the birch family, but their fall leaves are so much more colorful than our native birches. Who knew? Steve probably did.
hazel tree (or hazelnut bush) autumn leaves
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I have a wonderful and delicious recipe for a German hazelnut torte, it is made with ground hazelnuts and iced with mocha whip whipped cream. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
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All day I was thinking about this photo of “The Community of 12.” And I, like you Mary Ju, became “obsessed.” Here’s the result….
COMMUNITY OF 12
Hazelnut leaves—
Community of differences.Bold. Beautiful. Brave.
Cute. Curious. Coy.
Fun. Furious. Frail.
Shrewd. Sensible. Strong.Born of twisting trunks
That dance like ladies at a ball,
Clothed in bonnets and helmets
And full bearded attire—
The secret to all knowledge.
Pollinated in winter
On wind and wings.But it is the tone that matters most—
The tone of the filber.
Or is it the Nutella
That fills us with desire?reply -
Wow. Mary Jo, I had to catch my breath while reading your comment. You see me, and are correct. Every day, I look forward to seeing the photo you post and I find it incredibly inspiring—each one a work of art. One day you posted later than usual and I actually searched online to make sure there wasn’t some announcement of some sort—that you had ceased posting. That’s when I discovered your 2024 house fire. I can relate, and the poem for today will remind us both of the complexity of fire. A “book of some sort”?! What a fun idea!…and how amazingly generous of you. So let’s see, Your photos have inspired me to return to writing poetry. When something defies comment, I always go to that mode of expression. While I don’t yet have my sea legs, for sure, I’ll “keep em coming!”
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