On Sunday I hiked up the gorge downtown to enjoy the fall colors. It was sunny, with no breeze. Beside the bridge, little yellow leaves drifted to the creek below, their changing silhouettes distinct aginst the arch of blue sky outlined by the girders.
I enjoyed the unhurried fall of the leaves, their moment of hanging aloft, without attachment. I counted those seconds of suspension before the leaves fluttered to the ground. As they fell, the leaves, untethered, seemed to breathe out all that had come before--the spring birth, the summer of sailing on the swells of warm breezes, the autumn display of their true colors, their final days of catching the slanting rays of autumn sun and collecting fat raindrops.
As they fell to the creek and were caught by the current, they hung suspended on the water, carried along by the rightness of what--or whatever--was to come.
I hope you are enjoying your fall, this brief bridge between summer and winter.
5 comments:
You images of "this brief bridge" are just beautiful. BEAUTIFUL!
thank you dear friend
for your soothing words
a balm for my heart is something I really need right now
oxox
You write beautifully. :)
"carried along by the rightness of what-or whatever-was to come." oh, to be a leaf!
i thought of you and this post at least twice this week. once when i spied out of the kitchen window a single leaf twirling and dancing on a spider thread. and then driving to work one golden leaf came spiraling down on a gust of wind. suspension.
Thanks for these interesting thoughts. I am going to save them.
Post a Comment