"Change in a slow instant" is the best way I can think to describe the fall. On the one hand, it seems like one morning we just wake up to radical change--blaze-colored leaves, green lushness gone the way of our summer tomatoes. On the other hand, if we are watching for it, we get to see the change from balmy green-scented air to crisp yellow-red-orange leaves unfurl gradually.
This morning I took a walk around my neighborhood, with the challenge to see if I could watch carefully enough to notice the "slow" part of the "slow instant." The photos I took tell the story of the simultaneity (a word!) of the season:
Red and green, for a few precious moments of the season, live within the same leaf. The beautiful departure of chlorophyll, happening before our very eyes.
The fall color spectrum seems to roll out from the center core of the tree. Green fades to yellow, which awakens to red on its way down.
The flame-tipped green leaves signal the process.
A blazing tree stands amidst lush green ones, each species letting go of its leaves in its own time.
The sun flirts with its namesake color in this fully-transformed tree.
The lovely arch of these naked branches remind us that the next slow instant is when we move out of fall and into the bare-branched winter. But that's a story for another day.
Have you signed up for my feed yet? It's easy - just click here!
Comments