The Last of the Leaves

Cold, wet, dreary, and grey.  The last of the leaves were falling around me on my afternoon walk.  My favorite album of all time, Cat Steven’s Foreigner, was on my iPod.  It was such perfect melancholy, my eyes teared up. 

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I am so lucky to be able to get outside for a walk, and be able to see and breathe in something of the natural world to relieve myself of the stark, unrelenting glare of a computer screen.  While this time of year can bring up feelings of sadness, I can let myself feel the beauty around me as I appreciate watching the season change.

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Even when the sky is overcast and the breeze has that cold nip to it, seeing the dark red against the darker bark of the tree just does something to me.

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I took this shot of the bushes overlooking the road I walk up on Friday.  Today, Tuesday, they are cut down to a bare two feet of brownish green stalks.  The landscapers do this every fall, and every spring, they come back.

There’s a moral in there somewhere.  But I’m replaying Foreigner Suite, so I’m going to bask in melancholy and think about that tomorrow.

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