I didn’t know that underwater plants had an autumn. Their green turns to yellow and then red, just like leaves on trees. The bed of small Arctic plants look like a moist field of grain, golden, ready to harvest. Another sign that the darkness will come soon.
Playing with the family on the low-tide fjord is surreal at times. The old flat mountains in the back ground, the sun in the southern sky and water-filled nature reminds me that I am on top of the world instead of underneath it.
This life is so different from the hustle and bustle of big city, dry, dry Australia.
We are often alone on the beach, walking the sandy edge to the middle of the fjord. The air is calm and the light soothing. The moisture on the gentle breeze is never taken for granted by me. The coolness is a simple pleasure on my face.
We play ball, and frisbee, while the sun sets over our little city across the fjord. Winter is coming, and we make the most of every sunlit day, savoring the brightness in our eyes. 45 more days left of light and we find ourselves lingering outside longer and longer, just so in the depths of the dark season we can take heart that we did all we could with the light.
But we can’t help grasping onto all the beauty of autumn before it vanishes into winter.