Friday, October 1, 2010

Fallen Leaves

Fallen Leaves, originally uploaded by susanvg.

I just read Anne Michael's latest book, The Winter Vault. It deals a lot with memory and place. Interesting ideas to mull over and I like her way of writing - very poetic.

On a rainy day, I brought my spouse to St. Donat to see the house and grounds where I spent my summers and weekends from the mid-50s to 1986. I wanted him to peek into my memories. For me the place had layers - with ghosts and visions of years past. I saw not only what was there that day, but also the people and events I lived with and through here. Even the house, renovated and expanded since my parents sold it, I saw as it was. Many of the people who populated that life are now gone - they too are memories.

Autumn Display

I have not gone often since the house was sold. And when I do, I go when I know no one will be there. I need to feel that I am not tresspassing. It's hard to go back, to see a place that was home and no longer is, to stare at the view across the lake as a stranger. But every so often I need to look again at the place that is still so much part of who I am.


  1. Oh my! These pictures are exquisite! I have been taking lots of pictures lately of leaves lately and they present themselves in so many ways and the beauty truly does come through. I really love this one here of the fallen leaves. You are such a good photographer!

  2. Fall in Quebec is so beautiful. I love the wet leaf. With all the rain this week there were many to find.

  3. Your roots are in beauty, Susan - perhaps that's why you revere Nature so much. The photos are exquisite. I truly enjoyed the prose, though it made me a bit sad for you. Luckily, memories can remain even when place and people are lost.

  4. The layers of different colours of the leaves go so well with what you wrote about your memories. I used to spend all my childhood summers at my grandparents' summer cottage near the Russian border, and whenever I go there, I feel very much like what you wrote here. Our past places certainly live within us for the rest of our lives.