The Red Embers of Autumn
Embracing the end of the year
Dear friends and readers - I’m tardy with my letter - forgive me. Behind the scenes, I’m battling a fire. We all have fires to deal with from time to time, sometimes it feels like they all come at once, some are harder to put out than others. I’m not even sure fire is the right metaphor for this challenge, but if it is, I suspect this is a fire which will smoulder for a long time. This letter is not where I chose to share the challenges of parenthood … or maybe I simply can’t find the words … but suffice to say, there is no manual, and sometimes there are no warning signs either. So, I walked today, as I usually do, for my sanity.
I walk the tip path, my usual route, and today tasked myself with finding red, seeking the epitome of autumn, glowing leaves and berries to light these grey days with warmth and comfort. Reader, it was not easy! Grey set the tone - a blanket of wet sky, only the distant hope of sunlight gleaming, over there, far away. Many shades of grey, supported by multitudes of green. Grrrr. My search for red comes up lacking. First impressions: a warning sign - the faded ceramic insulators on an electric fence - a cockerel’s bright red comb. Single strands of red - bramble vines, the stem of a maple leaf. Hawthorns and rosehips stand out, but where are the autumn leaves?
I carry a pocket full of vibrant Virginia creeper from yesterdays urban stroll, but I want the reds of the hedgerows and waysides. I feel disappointment. Pinks, blues, yellows, green, white… where is the red? Crushed up brick underneath the tip path. A discarded, rusty red bull can. A plastic lid. A coke bottle. Herb Robert gives me pink - but the leaves, so often russet in the summer time, are tight and bright green.
As I wander I pick out colours, observing natures palette - a favourite subject. Leaves begin life yellow and the chlorophyll they contain overpowers the leaf in the warm and bright seasons as it photosynthesises, turning the leaf green. As the days darken, the temperature drops - leaves begin to die and chlorophyll breaks down. Until the leaf disappears into the ground, mulching the soil ready for next years fresh crop, the carotenes and carotenoids, helper chemicals, reveal their yellow and orange tones. But I want red - and in leaves, red is a different story.
Today, I had to look closely. I had to sniff out reds, the damp, finished stems of creeping tormentil and dandelion, rusty patches of bramble leaves, the heart wood revealed by carvings in a tree trunk - red only because of the damp in the air. And then, suddenly there it was. Soft, red berries on the guelder rose - I promised a flower but have not yet delivered. Cherry leaves, twisted, eaten - but red, perfect red. More hawthorn berries than the blackbirds could cope with, and several different types of rose hip.
Built up sugars in the leaves produce anthocyanin - chemicals producing a red pigment which, in combination with the leftover green pigment from summers chlorophyll overload, give their colour to many different parts of a plant. I love learning about these processes. Such red as I found - of berries, hips and haws, brightening ageing stems of dandelion and the last strands of tormentil, new leaves on the blackberries - all due to anthcyanins. They don’t need to do it, they could in stead to choose to retain their energy reserves, so why do trees choose to use up these precious sugars to change colour? The reasons are unclear. One suggestion is signalling passing birds and mammals to take their fruit but if that is the case the trees shrubs and hedges I passed were not playing ball, the colours had not changed. Maybe they didn’t feel the need, the fruiting trees on todays walk displayed such rich harvests no other signals were needed.
No matter. My little collection of leaves and berries cheered me and stoked the embers of my creative fire - enough to give me the drive and energy I need to deal with the other fires, raging behind the scenes. And, a timely reminder that, like the seasons I celebrate, all this will pass.
Thank you for reading, if any of this has resonated with you please comment - I would love to hear your stories, and from those of you who red between the lines…
With love and until next time, Ling x
USEFUL INFORMATION The current series of Paper Flower Evening Classes has proved such a success that the next Thursday class series (from 1st February) is practically full already (just 1 place remaining, go here to book and join a fabulous group). SO - great news - I HAVE LAUNCHED A SPRING SERIES starting on 30th January 2024, 10 places available, head over to paperbydragonfly.com to book NOW!
Selected classes are also offered in Spring 2024 currently on “buy one get one half price” - a lovely present for Christmas or an early treat for your lovely mum (and you!). X