Autumn Leaves (2004)

Fall is still hanging on and I am enjoying it to the fullest this year - still walking and gardening and just outside a lot with my work and the children and the dog. I can't help thinking about how much I am enjoying it and my mind is at play like a dry leaf in the wind as I daydream.

Living in the indoor environment of our homes and cities softens our need to be aware of the richness, beauty and urgency of fall. Living in the outdoors, the fish and bears and the insects and birds that I watch are so focused with purpose toward preparing for their winter that they just ignore me. Like rousing a child in the morning from sleep to get ready for school, the voice of nature is spoken close to the ear while its strong hand rests gently on our shoulder. Autumn’s message is spoken quietly and patiently at first but with increasing urgency until it firmly rings shut the last of a carefree summer, leaving in our mind, only the need to prepare for winter.

Partly, it is the wonderful fall that we are having, partly is my weekly drives into the interior and Okanagan over the past month and partly it is just where I am this time in my life that connects me so powerfully with the autumn this year. It is my favorite season. The weather has just been so alive and varied through each day; offering wind, sun, cool breezes, morning mists, damp and cold at night, heavy dews and now, hard morning frosts. Waiting are the rains that will strip the last leaves from the trees and wash out the bright colors of fall and haul down the excitement of this season.

This year, the leaves still remain dry and brittle and brightly colored, preserved by extended good weather. Half of the leaves are still fastened to their trees. Those that have managed to shake themselves loose from their branches love to play in the wind, skittering and spinning recklessly until they are snagged by a hedgerow or crunched underfoot or captured by a rake to be stored in a pile by the curb. Even then, the dry leaves seem to exercise a "will" to be freed from their pile and to return to their game. They irresistibly draw small children near, inviting them to play, daring them to jump in the piles and break them into pieces and then scatter them into air with a kick, or better yet, to throw them in armfuls back at the bare branches of trees that they fell away from.

In the morning, those piles of leaves that were not pulled apart by children or sealed and welded into soggy sheaves under the press of car tires look just like heaped-full holds of frosted, frozen fish on returning boats.

Soon the winter cloud will come to push its shoulder up against the unyielding bulk of our mountains where it will strain for the winter in a silly stubborn contest. The winter rains will search out the last dry leaves to plaster them where they are found onto sidewalks, windshields and roads. What a treat it is to be able to enjoy this fall so deeply this year.