three of the four pillars

as always we have reaccustomed ourselves to life in the north, life in minnesota. its charms are not small or easily dismissed, and they have crept back up on us since last january. our oak leaves have started turning orange on their way to russet. the fireplace season is approaching. apples are plentiful. the minneapolis skyline is beautiful in angled october light. but this picture can do a lot of damage to that point of view. we don’t grow grapes here, or not, anyway, french wine grapes. wild fennel does not grow in profusion on the side of rural highways. and fig trees do not grow along fencerows and up through the collapsed roofs of ancient stone buildings. those are three of the pillars of Languedocian food that this photo makes me hungry for. the fourth pillar is maybe the most fundamental, and that would be olive trees. we do trees very well in the north. we even do sacred trees pretty well. but nothing we have matches all of the associations of the mediterranean olive. i’m ready for this coming autumn, even anxious for it. but i’m ready, too, when the next time comes, to walk among olive trees in southern France, along vineyards, through wild fennel, perhaps on my way to pick a hatful of figs.

figs, fennel, and grapes

autignac, france

creativity requires play

i’ve been too distracted to be creative. let me rephrase that: i’ve been too distracted to be playful. usually i like to study my subjects, play with them. turn them upside down. maybe pull off some leaves or petals and see what i get. but, my house is completely torn up. i’m having the interior painted. everything that could be moved is in the garage, and the few large items that couldn’t be moved are wrapped in plastic. we’ve been eating grab-n-go foods for over a week. i have a photo shoot in the house next week, so this all has to come to an end eventually, but until then, you may be getting your daily dose of vitamin STILL. but it may be a little more watered down than i normally allow.

pink begonia

from my mom’s garden, shoreview, minnesota

a dark mood

sumac is so pretty and the red of its leaves is usually so cheerily candy red,  that the urge becomes almost irresistible to photograph it in a smiling, innocent mood. which i have done, as many of you know, quite a bit over the six year life span of STILL blog. but this year my background is black, not white, and i have already fully explored the happy possibilities of sumac’s joyful scarlet. red, as it happens, is also the color of blood, and passion, and dying suns, and velvet church pews. so i give you some sumac to brood on.

staghorn sumac

arden hills, minnesota

invasive?

this velvetleaf is supposedly an damaging weed from southern asia, and is now considered a significant threat to corn and soybean productivity. i’m sorry, i’m sure this should bother me, but i just had some really good pho for dinner, and my attitude at the moment is that the more visitors from asia who decide to come to my part of the world and stay, the better. welcome all.

velvetleaf seedpods

rice creek trail, saint paul, minnesota

clear the decks

this is the result of sweeping my deck on an october day in minnesota. we think of fall colors as all brilliant reds, oranges and yellows. but these are the real colors of fall. muted, incremental, with a little summer and a little winter mixed in.

fall leaves swept up from my deck

turtle lake, shoreview, minnesota