Gold, Rubies and Pearls

A lane, exquisite in all seasons

Each year I feel a sense of sadness when Summer passes, and Autumn seems to settle like a coldness coming from above. But no sooner has it come then Autumn raises its game with a spectacular show of colours that never ceases to enthral me.

It can be a brief show, and the weather may be so inclement that the desire to go out to see it is almost suppressed.  But normally I find sufficient self-motivation to go out on my bike and to enjoy the best show of the year before winter’s grip takes it from me. And so, in the past month, I’ve had quite a few really fabulous rides. 

Riding along Wenlock Edge, a flock of migrating birds flew over.  As the sun pushed its way through the mist, the mist’s last wisps clung to the clods of earth left by the farmer’s plough, as though the very earth was steaming.  Woodsmoke hung in the air, giving a homely smell of the hearth and a promise of warmth at the end of the day.  Golden leaves on the road made for skidding bicycle wheels, but they also gave an impression of riding over a road paved with gold. 


Money grows on trees - or so it seems, when you look at the golden coins hanging from the silver birch in autumn.  Copper and bronze hang from other trees, and some leaves are so red that they seem to be in flower rather than in the autumn die back.  Nuts and berries drip from branches, though the squirrels make short work of those cobb nuts left by the farmer’s clippers.  From the holly, hawthorn and dog rose hang rubies, from the snowberry, pearls.

One day many years ago a lowlife burglar stole from me, amongst other things, an eternity ring, gold set with rubies, which had belonged to my late mother.  It couldn’t have been of any great value to him but for me, it was priceless.  I missed it sorely, so strong was its association with the mother I had lost.  But gradually, as time passed, I began to see that autumn brings gifts which are also priceless.  

And so I shall always feel my mother’s presence, whenever the wild rose shows to me its bejewelled hand.