Probably not, but no matter.
Here I am back to offer some last impressions of that season of light. Here in the Bay, we don't have those stunning displays of brilliant reds and oranges covering entire mountains such as exist back East, but there are days, like the recent afternoon pictured below, when trees blush pink and sidewalks are painted gold with fallen leaves, days that make me smile, grateful for the ghost of the sun lying at my feet.
All this yellow made me laugh.
Tripping down this sidewalk, my trusty dog Earnest AKA Toto-in-disguise at my side, I felt certain I would soon see the Wizard or at least stumble over the Scarecrow.
Unless the tiny woman with the huge bag of recyclables balanced on her back could be counted as a wizard. Who knows? She did give me a big smile and would have waved had she not needed both hands to hang onto the bag and its magical contents of convertible currency, aluminum to nickels. As she moved sturdily across the street, her back bent but her spine stretched long, wizard-like indeed.
Autumn skies have enough music to carry me through dark December days. Plenty of strong chords, howling winds, and always the grace notes of geese honking their way further south.
Trees pressed against flooded blue and leaves pressed to rain damp concrete. Both leave lasting impressions.
I came upon these sidewalk leaf prints pictured below while walking recently in Emeryville. The leaves of young sycamore trees had blown down during the last raging rain storm. After the 'river of rain' -- the 'pineapple express' -- had glued the leaves to the sidewalk, tannins leached onto the white concrete, and when the next blustering wind came howling off the bay, it blew away the spines of the fallen leaves, and the shadow of summer remained printed on the sidewalk.
A perfect ghost.
Sometimes Sleeping with its imperfect ghosts, standing guard.