THE POSTSEASON

THE POSTSEASON

Three Leaves

James Aponovich

oil on panel, 14" x 11"

In New England, the fall foliage season rolls down from Canada in early October and cascades over Cape Cod and the Islands around the beginning of November. This arboreal technicolor review is witnessed by countless tourists in large buses as well as 'daytrippers' from all parts of New England, New York and beyond. They come to catch the first glimpses of the yellows, oranges, vermillion and magentas of the sugar maples and myriad of other trees. There is nothing subtle about a 'peak' New England fall.

Japanese Maple

SECOND ACT

Personally, I wait for the tide to roll back, after the maples have dropped their leaves and the tourists have bought their souvenirs and left, a quiet returns and a second 'fall' occurs. It is now time for the majestic oaks, rugged hickories and elegant birches to step forward. The oak eschews the brilliant chroma of the maple and instead dons a more regal mantle of burnt orange and russet. The hickory turns gold, the envy of any potentate or commodities trader. This thunderous chord is offset by the lyrical dance of the white birches with lemon yellow leaves. Only the beeches will keep their leaves all winter, a ghostly presence, rattling in the wind, waiting for spring.

Shagbark Hickory

NOVEMBER LIGHT

The angle of sunlight is now low and sharp, the clear, piercing light passes through the bare trees, casting long shadows on the dry fields. Deer are on the move. It is time for sheep to find winter shelter. Birds are agitated, preparing for their long flight south. Overhead, a river of hawks arrive from Mount Desert in Maine and catch the thermal updrafts above Pack Monadnock mountain and continue down  the coast.

There is a certain nostalgia or sadness to this time of year. Firewood is stacked strategically around the house. It will be needed to ward off the bitter cold of winter, gardens are put to bed and everyone waits for the first flurry of snow. Storm windows are fastened and everywhere you begin to see the unofficial flag of New England unfurl, the blue plastic tarp that covers everything for the winter. 

LATE HARVEST AT LULL FARM

"Live Free and Farm"

This is also the time for the rural farmstands. Not far from us is one of the best, Lull Farm, in Hollis, New Hampshire. I spend a part of my youth nearby at my Uncle's farm. Here bins of apples compete with mountains of pumpkins and squash for attention. The weekends find the stand crowded with families in festive moods. Children scamper over piles of pumpkins trying to find the perfect one, classic country mirth. It is an event that reminds me of a Brueghel painting.

 The Wedding Dance, 1566

Brueghel

Tip 'O The Hat and my thanks to  our friends Judith and Robert Oksner
for on call editing