Impressions of Fall in New Zealand

You know, I think that fall in New Zealand is very like the Queen of England. 

"Oh," you say, "That's because she is in the autumn of her years."  

"No," I reply, "That's not the reason. And if you ask me, at age 90, she's been in the winter of her years for some time now, but that's beside the point."  

I'll tell you in a minute why I connected fall and the Queen but first I want to think about fall as I have always known it. 

Fall in northern Michigan is a riot. Every tree in the woods takes part. Even the evergreens do their bit by maintaining some variety of green to offset the colours of the forest radicals. Not one of the trees holds back. Seen at their best, and with a good hard frost to motivate them, many trees can seem to actually produce light with their leaves. Driving along the Keweenaw Scenic Drive south of Copper Harbour could make the most level-headed among us think that he was on some sort of high. Couple the visuals there with the smell of sun-warmed leaves on the breeze and that, in my opinion, is about as good as it can get on earth, season-wise.  

It's a bit different here in New Zealand. First of all, a great many of the indigenous trees are evergreens. No colour-changing frenzy can be expected from them. And the imported deciduous trees here are rather widely scattered. They can't get together in large groups and egg each other on to display their very best. 

But the main problem is the climate. It's just too nice here. No cold snaps that sneak up and blast the trees with a foretaste of winter's dead-zone.

The result is that the trees that are in charge of providing fall's 'blaze' of colour here, can only manage of bit of a spark. Oh, I think they're trying to live up to their species' abilities, but they just don't quite have it in them. They've been coddled by this climate too long and have become a bit soft.  They are too genteel. Their fall finery is subdued, in a proper, understated way. 

And that leads me back to Queen Elizabeth. She is the epitome of sophistication, and the genteel, aristocratic lifestyle. She Does Not riot. She promotes elegance in everything she does. But her style is subdued, in I think, a highly proper, understated way. 

If she were the season between Summer and Winter, she would have to be called ebb, not Fall. 

Fall is onion sandwiches on rye bread and Black Label Beer.
ebb is cucumber sandwiches and a Dubonette and gin cocktail, with lemon. 

With that in mind, I present to you some photos from around town. This is as good as it gets for a colour tour here. I wonder if the South Island blazes any more brightly? Maybe I'll find out sometime. 

What do you think? Is this 'ebb' in NZ? Abatement maybe? 
This is looking up Harvest Drive.

Well, there you have it. This is 'fall' in Henderson. It's true we don't have the vibrancy of colours, but I'm happy to report that the special 'feeling of fall' is every bit as wonderful here as it is at home. It has something to do with the special warmth of the sun, a certain coolness in the air, and a quality of light. Ahhh, fall...

Of course, here it happens in May                            -djf