Saturday 29 November 2014. Signs of Winter at Meadowbrook.

It was 37 degrees F and mostly clear, except right near the horizon this morning at 7:15 after yoga practice–going over demonstrations of twists using a chair, which I think my students will enjoy. There was a pretty continuous breeze (though not an especially warm one) coming from the south, into which Rhododendron and I rode toward Meadowbrook Park.

Stopped at “my” apple tree to get a view of the further effects of cold weather on it.

It was pretty much winter-bare, the only apples still clinging very dark and shrunken.

The velo has gotten pushed down my do-list lately, alas; been missing it! Could tell by the effort of riding into the wind that I was a little less “in shape” as a result of the absence.

Nevertheless, cruised down Race Street in post-yoga inward-focused mode remembering the abundant ginkgo fruit in a tree at Race and Windsor. Found that the sidewalk under it was pretty much cleaned up, though the smell was distinctive, and assertive. Shortly thereafter noticed plenty of fruit in the grass (mulch?) next to the sidewalk, and, unlike with the apple tree, plenty of ginkgo fruit remained on the tree.

Stopped for a visit and photo of the “wonky Christmas tree,”

which has always made me think about the symbolism of images and the power of interpretation. Seems to me that the appeal and “Christmas-ness” of a fir or similar tree is in its upright, upward-pointing “posture.” E.g., when one selects a Christmas tree one looks for this posture, and for symmetry. My “wonky” tree seems to deny the wish for this upright, symmetrical posture. Rather than hope and aspiration it seems to convey a sense of laboring under a burden, or that life does not always confirm to our designs. Or it could suggest humor and mischief–“I’m tired of standing straight and need to change position!” The same image can produce such different emotions! It all depends on interpretation.

The branches of a non-native looking tree (bet it had a label but didn’t think to look for it) near the wonky Christmas tree caught my eye: they were smooth and shiny in the rising sun like bronze-skinned dancers.

McCullough and Davis creeks were high, the surface of the water still and glassy.

Made the big loop and saw quite a few fresh piles of coyote scat on the path: their “calling cards.” Assumed it was not dog because they were quite dark and lumpy, as from an opportunistic diet. I have yet to see a coyote here, though apparently they are not uncommon.

The prairie was golden.

Saw lots of seed heads to photo another time but couldn’t resist stopping to catch a few lovely Baptisia pods.

Slowly getting used to this reminder of Pratyahara, this subdued, subtle time of year.


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