Thursday, October 16, 2014
Those of us who live in regions with seasons know well that poignant moment each autumn when we notice the first leaf twirl it's way to the ground.
Even though we know to expect it, it is usually still met with shock and awe. Also, it's very motivating.
That single messenger leaf comes bearing the loud and clear announcement that we are all crossing an important threshold.
From that leaf forward, the pace picks up around things like stacking firewood, preserving the harvest, winterizing the property, and moving coats, scarves and umbrellas to the front of the closet.
As our minds begin the shift from the long active days of summer and sun and projects, we begin to remember things like soup, rain, movies, the holidays, and rest.
In British Columbia, I recognize the combination of dry weather and falling leaves can be very brief, and I've come to appreciate it as a poetic phenomenon of nature. As fallen leaves begin to dry on the ground, they curl and bend to become inspiring miniature sculptures. Their colors are bright, rich and varied.
Rain is never far off from this special moment, and will change the scenery dramatically, pressing everything into the earth, or literally carrying things away in streams or wind.
Also, with the arrival of colder temperatures, colors deepen, and much of the world becomes a hushed backdrop to the final fall operas sung by some vivid vines, trees and grasses. I love the way the palette in nature is constantly refreshing itself in this part of the world.
I took this photo (iPhone) recently when the world here was still dry. The leaves had just begun to fall, taking the longest routes down that they could before delicately resting themselves here and there in perfect randomness.
Sure enough, it rained the very next day…
Enjoy your world today!
Drawing: Portrait of dried leaves, 1816, Friedrich Oliver.