Gold and Purple

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Out in the old fields that line State Route 32, past the western edge of Cincinnati, beyond the Serpent Mound, and on into the Southeastern Ohio counties of Jackson, Vinton, Meigs and Athens, there's a soft, golden light.

It is an anniversary occuring here, as old as the hills it is spread upon, and probably older still. Years beyond countless years, where only the rain and the wind claimed rights to shape the land. It is beyond the scope of a human lifetime - far bigger and concerning rhythms that are lost upon our humble ears. It is profound, and it takes my breath away.

I watched it as I drove by two days ago, and again as I came back yesterday. Like a regal flowing robe of yellow, hemmed with purple silk. Goldenrods are alight in the fields, and Mistflowers dress the field edges. Solidago, the genus commonly called Goldenrod, is numerous in North America, and it begins to adorn the Ohio fields from August until October, but it is at it's most spectacularly widespread just about now. The Conoclinium genus of asters, to contrast, are a only four in number, and Mistflower seems to soley represent it along the roadside, though there is also one single flowering plant in my backyard.

This one bloomed in the last days of summer, and has not lost any of the vibrant purple it first showed three weeks ago. To see it at a distance gives one a fuzzy impression, but close in you can see the numerous clusters of delicate purple petals, like small bristles.

Together, the gold and purple is almost spiritual. The goldenrod seems to give back all the radiance it gets from the sun. It lights up the underside of my car roof, and I feel like I'm flying through a sea of yellow. Then, those royal purple hues draw my eye deep into the scene. I wonder at all the old wisdom that's lying out there, buried in the slow repetitions of the seasons. I could dig for it. I could move out to the country and glean truth from those golden fields. My own Walden Pond. My own brand of religion.

Ah, but those days are beyond me right now. There is wine to bottle and catfish to fry today. I'll leave my philosophical struggles alone for the time being. I'll concentrate on the growl of my stomach.

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