More Shiny Things

Even after an ice storm, 
shiny things exist.

This fall, as Bill and I departed for a trip, an ice storm was being predicted. I knew it would most likely kill my annuals and finish off tender perennials for the season. But I also believed even as that cold snap removed a lot of greenery from my yard, it would trigger the resplendent colors of fall. By the time we returned, our trees would be bedecked in their autumn regalia. 

Of course, this being 2020, that cold snap morphed into full-fledged ice-mageddon. Bill and I rode out the storm in a condo in Virginia (talk about good timing!), while a helpful neighbor kept us abreast of developments at home: ice-laden limbs crashing onto lawns and roofs; decades-old tree trunks splitting as if cleaved by an icy maul; ice coatings on power lines depriving many of electricity. And if all that weren’t tragic enough, the hateful ice rendered two-year-old Emma’s tree swing inoperable. 

Returning at night from our trip, we saw in the car’s headlights great bundles of branches my industrious neighbors had already gathered and piled along the curbs. My heart sank as I determined there would be no foliage fantasy to
enjoy this autumn. It wouldn’t be the first fall that Oklahoma trees went straight from green to brown to bare, but it’s always disappointing when that happens.

On our first morning home, I woke early (to vote) and expected to see nothing but dead leaves littering the ground and jagged limbs hanging from stripped trees. To my great relief, I discovered the storm had done some damage but it hadn’t turned my entire community into an apocalyptic wasteland. While the trees in our own yard suffered heavy blows, elsewhere determined leaves clung bravely to undamaged branches. In the sun, the leaves glowed in brilliant tones of gold, orange, and red. The fact they’d survived the storm made them all the more beautiful and appreciated. Shiny things indeed.

While the flowering plum in our
yard didn't fare very well ...

... in other areas trees put on spectacular shows.

And in Hafer Park, the storm hadn't
damaged my favorite tree!

On a walk, I attempted to capture the fall splendor surrounding me. I stood in different spots and angled my camera this way and that for the best exposure. In the process of doing that, a thought occurred to me: In order for things to be shiny, they need light. 

As we approach the end of a year that has cast more than its rightful share of shadows, let’s try to cast sparks of light--a smile, a compliment, a word of encouragement--that will illuminate shiny things for others.

PS Thinking I'd completed this post, I took another morning walk in the park with no intention of snapping more pictures. But . . . I came upon this "shiny thing" and couldn't resist. I know she'll make you smile!

Say hello to Sadie, an
adorable poodle/English sheep-
dog mix.