autumnal tints

"I went into the woods because I wished to live deliberately,
to front only the essential facts of life,
and see if I could not learn what it had to teach,
and not, when I came to die,
discover that I had not lived."
Henry David Thoreau

thoreau is most widely known for his work “on walden pond” - and rightly so. but many of his other works, which carry an equal literary value and weight haven’t been accorded the respect and fame that i believe they deserve. among these other titles is a piece of writing entitled “autumnal tints”. the full text of this work (which by the way isn’t a substantial piece of writing in terms of its length but as you’ll see in giving it a read, its quality more than makes up for its diminished quantity) is available at: http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/transcendentalism/authors/thoreau/autumnal.html
here’s an image of some fallen leaves that i actually took last autumn.


on this beautiful autumn day, the trees have about two thirds of their leaf cover beneath them now - a mostly yellow and red carpet covering the still green grass and disturbed by the crazed squirrels who are rocketing to and fro in their quest to gather food for the inevitable return of winter. a good day to reflect on the wonder of thoreau’s immense writing skills. here’s a sample from “autumnal tints” an excerpt from “the red maple”

THE RED MAPLE.
By the twenty-fifth of September, the Red Maples generally are beginning to be ripe. Some large ones have been conspicuously changing for a week, and some single trees are now very brilliant. I notice a small one, half a mile off across a meadow, against the green wood-side there, a far brighter red than the blossoms of any tree in summer, and more conspicuous. I have observed this tree for several autumns invariably changing earlier than its fellows, just as one tree ripens its fruit earlier than another. It might serve to mark the season, perhaps. I should be sorry, if it were cut down. I know of two or three such trees in different parts of our town, which might, perhaps, be propagated from, as early ripeners or September trees, and their seed be advertised in the market, as well as that of radishes, if we cared as much about them.
At present, these burning bushes stand chiefly along the edge of the meadows, or I distinguish them afar on the hill-sides here and there. Sometimes you will see many small ones in a swamp turned quite crimson when all other trees around are still perfectly green, and the former appear so much the brighter for it. They take you by surprise, as you are going by on one side, across the fields thus early in the season, as if it were some gay encampment of the red men, or other foresters, of whose arrival you had not heard.
Some single trees, wholly bright scarlet, seen against others of their kind still freshly green, or against evergreens, are more memorable than whole groves will be by-and-by. How beautiful, when a whole tree is like one great scarlet fruit full of ripe juices, every leaf, from lowest limb to topmost spire, all aglow, especially if you look toward the sun! What more remarkable object can there be in the landscape? Visible for miles, too fair to be believed. If such a phenomenon occurred but once, it would be handed down by tradition to posterity, and get into the mythology at last.
The whole tree thus ripening in advance of its fellows attains a singular preeminence, and sometimes maintains it for a week or two. I am thrilled at the sight of it, bearing aloft its scarlet standard for the regiment of green-clad foresters around, and I go half a mile out of my way to examine it. A single tree becomes thus the crowning beauty of some meadowy vale, and the expression of the whole surrounding forest is at once more spirited for it.”