November Tree Row in the Rain

I visit the Arboretum frequently at all times of the year. In the autumn, it's just a hop, skip, and a jump from there to the golden tree row that lines the pretty lane to the University President's house.

Of a lovely autumn's morning (or afternoon), you might find me there along that tree row, with its golden carpet of leaves, taking pictures this way and that, trying to find the perfect shot. It's just one of my obsessions. I make no apologies for it.

But every time I've been there recently, I've been thwarted by the Leaf Thieves. These are the people from our University's physical plant office who go around campus taking care of things outdoors.

Generally, they are good people, I am sure; and who can argue with keeping things tidy? But this year, they've gone too far: they seem to have had a special obsession with keeping this tree row completely free of leaves on the ground.

The past three times I've been there, to get my pictures, I've done battle with men on mowers, men with leaf blowers, and finally last week, a whole bunch of men wielding a great big leaf-sucking machine.

Yeah, sure, you can make a truce with them (that is, if you can stand the noise), but it hampers one who is taking pictures, trying to make sure none of those men and machines accidentally make it into one's shot.

On this particular day, it was raining heavily at times. I was coming back to my office from a beautiful lunch with colleagues at the Nittany Lion Inn. It featured a huge bowl of their famous lobster bisque and a nice little house salad with ranch dressing. I was feeling pretty good about things. (As one does, when one's tummy is full of warm, creamy bisque!)

As I drove past the Arboretum to go back to my office, I suddenly thought to myself: There couldn't POSSIBLY be men out thieving the leaves in such weather! And so I stopped and parked the car, and I grabbed my camera and umbrella, and I headed for the tree row in the rain.

What you see in this photo is the second shot I took. The rain was pouring down and the puddles were growing bigger everywhere. I was glad to have my Crocs on my feet (yes, you know I just had to walk through that huge puddle right in front there).

Many of the leaves have come down now, so I didn't capture that full, golden glory that I have managed in sunnier outings in prior years. (For comparison's sake, here are three prior blips that feature this set of golden trees: Nov 2013, Oct 2014, and Nov 2014.)  But I did fully enjoy how dark and shiny and dramatic those tree trunks looked - almost black - when slick with rain.

Now, it was not by any means a "nice" day out, but those kinds of things don't usually bother me. Weather of any kind can be interesting to take photos in, and I have the gear and the appropriate attitude for it.

Mind-numbingly catastrophically bad weather set aside . . . it is true, I think, that the weather is generally only what you make of it. And I do suspect that I manage - with my dancing Croc-covered feet - to have more fun in soggy weather than many people do on sunny days!

Now, there is a little P.S. to this story. It was pouring when I drove home that evening, and my husband was fussing as it got dark that the birds were waiting to be fed but he couldn't feed them, because the tray he puts their peanuts on was too soggy and wet.

But the male cardinal was waiting; and the cardinals (both male and female) have a special relationship with my husband, who cannot deny them anything. And so I saw my husband a bit later run out with a handful of chopped-up peanuts, dump the water out of the bird feeding station, and feed the birds.

Seconds later, the cardinal was at the tray, eating. And a few minutes later, that pretty red bird was sitting just outside the kitchen window - as he does. We joke that he sings FOR his supper, but the singing generally takes place AFTER the meal. So there he sat, drenched, but singing his fool head off in gratitude. Yes, there he sat, singing in the rain.

And so it may look like a rainy day out to most, but from where I stand, the sun is shining all over the place. :-) The tune to accompany this blip is the song and dance scene starring Gene Kelly, from the1952 film with the same name, Singin' in the Rain