My first souvenir of an Indian summer dates back to the fall of 2001, when I moved to the United States. The phenomenon, made popular in my country by American singer and hair model Joe Dassin in the 70′s, sounded quite different from the dreary debacle gracing France in late October. Joe and his tight pants were right, the fall foliage bursting into vivid yellows, oranges, and reds melted my jaded eyeballs, a unique experience the scientific community ranks close behind witnessing a double-rainbow, all the way.
There is so much to do here in autumn, so many pumpkins to carve in the shape of Ron Paul, so many cider donuts to stuff oneself with that I consider it one of the best time for my transatlantic friends and family to visit. If you are keeping score at home, that’s USA 1 – Frenchland 0. Alas, fall is also a great time to go on strike in my homeland, a tradition that can leave you stuck at home for a while — that and having your Peugeot burnt by a mob of angry teenagers going back to school after two months of vacation. So for you guys back there, or you folks in the 518 fighting “that other sickness” from the comfort of your couch, here are a few snapshots of fall. Put some M83 on.
Click on any of the thumbnails to open a larger view.
Most of the pictures in this post were taken at Indian Ladder Farms and Altamont Orchards in Altamont, NY. I sneaked in a few shots from an old trip to Storm King too (not the recent one), and some cultural tidbits about farm animals I’m sure you wanted to know about — it’s a slow day. I’ll have a few, actual fall foliage photos in one last “cemetery special“ post next week (how’s that for a bait and switch?), and there is always Five Rivers, right outside Albany. As we enter winter and get ready to shovel, I’ll find the time to post photos of my summer trip to beautiful Catalina Island.
Moo. Moo. In French: Meuh. Meuh. This post is going to be very educational, you can tell already.
Chirp. Chirp. In French: Cui. Cui. I mean, “chirp”, guys, seriously?
Kwak. Kwak. In French: Coin. Coin. You win this round.
This is an “orgie de courge”. Don’t try this at home.
Storm King Wall, by Andy Goldsworthy. Wall in French is “mur”, one of these hardcore “u” sounds that I’ve a hard time to believe anyone would find sexy.
Hee-haw. In French, hi-han, pronounced exactly the same. Let’s call it a tie.
Tired of animal sounds? Last one for the road, since it’s my buddy Bennett’s personal favorite, the rooster. In English, cock-a-doodle-doo. In French, cocorico, also known as, *the sound a rooster actually makes*. In German: kikeriki — something is clearly strange with birds on the other side of the Alps.
Goats are internationally cute, also juicy.
Below, my friend Kim, in her natural habitat. That’s how she rolls (thank you, I’m here all week).
I’ve used this last photo below in a few shows and fundraisers in the past, it is certainly less depressing than my abandoned building series and remains one of my favorite to this date. I discovered hayrides in this country, mind you. I’m confident we have the technology in France, give us the time to dry some hay. Cider donuts, the sunset, a wagon just for you and that special one you really care for, what could go wrong?
Bennett is in his element in autumn. Here is the man, visual oding away on AOA.