Transfigured

Coming home from my walk this evening, I turn into the alley which runs behind our town's main street - and stop in amazement. It's not a squalid alley, just somewhat plain...until now.

This humble shed and the trees behind it, decked with Virginia creeper and lit by the westering sun, have been transformed by autumn's alchemy into a scene of absolute beauty.

In one of Angela Thirkell's novels, a small boy uses the phrase "festoon of loveliness" to describe a baby. I think these vines would qualify as well.

I'm so glad I had my camera in my pocket.

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