The scorching summer heat of Portugal is long gone and in its place are the gloomy cloudy days filled with rain, wind and cooler temperatures. Before summer bid its grand farewell, my orchids graced me with these spectacular tiger blooms in honour of my mom’s birth month. She loved her orchids and I always try to have at least one orchid at home in her memory. It’s always a bit of a hit and miss with them though, they can be very diva-like and are easily offended. Mine didn’t like being split and propagated, but after two years they have forgiven me somewhat, so I am bestowed with spring and autumn blooms:
Much as I love the heat and the humidity (why else would I have moved to Portugal in the first place?), a return to the European Autumn is always a pleasant change. The Iberian Peninsula is not like Central Europe where the forests transform into vibrant carpets of reds, oranges and yellows and you can practically hear Vivaldi’s concertos amongst the leaves. Autumn here is a more subtle experience, where everything remains green but the trees discreetly discard their foliage and reveal the core barrenness. I suppose it can be seen as Mother Nature’s version of a Fado, a lamentation of a bygone summer one branch at a time. Next thing you know, the rains intensify, the branches are bare and you are in the dead of winter.
In terms of photography, there is no need to venture far away from my front door to capture some images that speak to me on so many levels. The poetic fragility of the raindrops clinging to the leaves and petals never ceases to amaze me, especially at that moment when the rain eases up but hasn’t quite stopped, and a light drizzle prevails all around. The drops on the plants are like tiny fairy lights illuminating the pervading greyness, and if you are willing to splash around in a puddle or two, you will definitely be rewarded:
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower
– Albert Camus
FrogDiva Thoughts 