Nothing has been right about this year. From the turbulent global markets to the political mess painfully unfolding in the United State, stability and predictability prove elusive. In the vein of natural patterns then, I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise to see the leaves holding on to their colors of green and brown longer than usual. This year, October came quick, but the brilliant shades of orange and red simply weren't there. That is, until last week. All of a sudden the colors popped and burst, like a second blossoming at the tip of every branch. It was almost instantaneous. But as quickly as the leaves changed color this year, they began to fall... blanketing the earth like some beautiful palette. Retiring from their brilliance past; resetting for what lay ahead.
I say the same thing every year: I wish this month would never end. If I could suspend time and live the same day, every day, I would live this day. Walking through the yard with the golden light pouring down on me; the trees moving in the breeze; and the leaves trembling and falling all around. The air this evening is dry and crisp, and for sure it's going to get cold again soon. When I pause and focus my attention on one of the few remaining tree branches whose leaves are still green, I get lost in the way it bobs up and down with the wind. Slowly, rhythmically, the tips of the branch scratch at the evening air... a starburst of sunlight illuminates the leaves from far off on the horizon. It dances up, then down, then up again. Swaying. Swirling. Breathing.
Footnotes: All video, Fujifilm X-T2 with Fujinon 16-55mm f/2.8 XF R LM WR - Music, "In Albany New York" by The 126ers