I love the autumn! I love its sights, sounds, and smells. I love the symbolism of death that surrounds us – knowing that rebirth will come in just a few months. I love the autumn festivals and I love that autumn has inspired poets and musicians – to say nothing of visual artists.
.....That time of year thou mayst in me behold
.....When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
.....Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
.....Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
.....In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
.....As after sunset fadeth in the west,
.....Which by and by black night doth take away,
.....Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
.....In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
.....That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
.....As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
.....Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.
.....This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
.....To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
...................................Sonnet 73
...................................William Shakespeare
As I write, I am sitting lakeside in my favorite place on earth. I am in upstate New York. The sky is a brilliant azure and the colors of the leaves – mostly sugar maples – are luminous and vibrant. The day is blustery, and the rustle of dry leaves fills the air, punctuated only by the honking of Canada geese as they fly southward in their familiar, aerodynamic formation. It is the peak of the autumn and God’s glorious creation is on full display!
I am reminded of this poem by Canadian poet Bliss Carman (1861-1929):
.....Now when the time of fruit and grain is come
.....When apples hang above the orchard wall,
.....And from the tangle by the roadside stream
.....A scent of wild grapes fills the racy air,
.....Comes Autumn with her sunburnt caravan,
.....Like a long gypsy train with trappings gay
.....And tattered colors of the Orient,
.....Moving slow-footed through the dreamy hills.
.....The woods of Wilton at her coming wear
.....Tints of Bokhara and of Samarcand;
.....The maples glow with their Pompeian red,
.....The hickories with burnt Etruscan gold;
.....And while the crickets fife along her march,
.....Behind her banners burns the crimson sun.
These words inspired Chicago composer Leo Sowerby (1895-1968) to pen his concert overture, Comes Autumn Time, one of my favorite works for organ. I recorded the piece several years ago and the recording can be found by following this link.
I encourage you to give it a listen; it is a musical postcard of autumn. The bold opening statement of the sweeping melody in the pedals is clearly a vision of a broad landscape of vivid autumnal hues. The musical lens is more finely focused as the music softens and we are drawn into the intimacy of individual colored leaves and the tracery of their veins, cascading to the earth, floating aimlessly in a stream (or the lake beside me), or shuddering under their tenuous tether to their host tree branch – a coupling that was solid and strong just a short time ago. Several times we again gaze at the broad expanse of the fiery landscape only to again be brought into the intimacy of the profound beauty of a single, radiant leaf. Dr. Sowerby hosts a brilliant sonic, technicolor excursion through this colorful season.
In the midst our ongoing uncertainty and confusion, it is reassuring to know the creation that surrounds us carries on its appointed, unchanging rounds. The panoply of nature is bigger than we can comprehend, and I take great comfort it its changelessness and unspeakable beauty. Why not join me in pausing to appreciate this special time of year and to absorb the sumptuous beauty that surrounds us? And listen to the Sowerby autumnal soundtrack. May it assist you in beholding this most lavish celebration of nature.
Rob Lehman
Organist and Choirmaster
