NaBloWriMo Day 4- Write with all the Colors of the Wind

I'm blogging from the road today.

 My better half is driving.

 iPod songs on shuffle.

 Daughter is quiet in the back seat plugged into her own iPod shuffle.

Latte to-go cup close by to sip on in-between gazing out the window and writing out my thoughts...

Now that the fog is lifting, I can see that the trees are just beginning to turn. The cornucopia of trees on the bluff to the right assures me that Fall is here, but experience warns that the changing colors will be short-lived. The plethora of descriptive fall color adjectives do not do the view justice. How can one write about fall colors in such a way that evokes that feeling one gets from taking in nature's beauty? The orange foliage is like the flames of a campfire licking at the night air. The yellow hues of the leaves are warm and comforting like the summer sun. The crushed velvet of a theatre curtain has nothing on the leaves of red...are they burgundy, are they maroon, are they black in the shadows...until the spotlight hits, it's impossible to tell. The browns and greens never get top billing, but the truth is that without their rich contrast, the bright yellows and burnt oranges and rich reds would have no depth.

 On one side of the road my hubby tells me the sea of green is drilled beans..."they won't make anything." The other side of the road has the golden glow of a field of corn ready to be harvested. Before the fog had begun to diminish, we noticed the strangest sight--nothing of color--instead grayish-white poles that started at the ground and then disappeared into the thick misty covering. Every once in awhile we would catch a glimpse of a blade cutting through the ominous low-level clouds so that we indeed could deduce that the top of the windmill was still there, just temporarily masked.

These grayish-white windmills are popping up in more and more rural areas dotting the countryside and striping the once blank canvases of farmland. For years, birds have taken advantage of the natural air currents to conserve energy in getting from here to there. Now man has figured out how to harness that natural energy as well. A good thing? Yes, but it obscures my autumn view. Ah, well. Soon the countryside will be blanketed in white and the windmills will blend right in.  There won't be as many colors of the wind to write with then.

Life is short...Autumn is short.  Enjoy the fall leaves and write with all the colors of the wind.