The crunch of crisp brown leaves underfoot. The shimmer of sun on water. The rustle of wind in the reeds.
These autumn landscapes affect me deeply. The way the leaves blaze like fire when kissed by the sun is like natures last stand against the dark season to come. Sure, it’s a lost cause as we all know the winter will come, but it’s as if the trees want to go down in a blaze of glory, railing against the barren months to come.
As I wander through these woods I am amazed at how quickly the light changes the landscape. The whole ambience can change in an instant when a cloud obscures the sun. And just as suddenly when the cloud passes, it’s as though a wave of light ripples across the forrest, turning the last of the leaves into a glorious eruption of colour once more.
I see an old tree, perched on the side of a slope, it’s roots exposed to the elements. I wonder how long this old matriarch has stood here, season after season, weathering storms, dry seasons and who knows what else. I marvel at her tenacity, strength and power as her roots pierce the earth, spreading and growing ever downward, seeking out nourishment and safety.
Gently I stroke her bark as if hoping I can somehow absorb some of her patience, resilience and power, somehow transform it into my own transitory life.