It is a beautiful autumn day with the most perfect interplay of clouds and light playing on dappled trees. The vivid yellow, orange and almost red leaves on the season’s palette are stunning. And beneath them, crinkled and in sepia, leaves carpet and the lush green of lawns, rustling and whispering: “The show’s not over… not yet!”
I watch and wonder why I’m now such an involved spectator when this is really just another season; why it’s only now that I am noticing – and relishing autumn’s magnificent colour show. Perhaps it has something to do with moving into a house that has more glass than timber. It’s one which lets me reflect and observe more closely this changing of the guard when Silver Birch, Liquid Amber and Golden Elm bow to winter.
And that arrives with a sudden – and chilly – gust. A burst of yellow brown leaves shimmy down the drive and I, more than ever before, am in awe of nature as it unfolds so intimately before me. But, if truth be known, watching all this has more to do with me, and this time of year than a new glass castle.
It is about age, the appreciation of time passing. Earlier in my life none of these registered as potently. Too many ‘to do’ lists; too much work and not enough moments spent in reflection. But not now, not today when I can see life caught in the colours of a leaf.