Mysterious Leaves

Autumn is my favorite season. Maybe it’s because of all those years of school through college and graduate work, but fall always feels like a fresh beginning to me. The cooler weather and break in humidity are a gift, but it’s the changing plants and light that stirs something artistic. In September, the sunlight appears both warm and crisp at the same time, and the colors slowly deepen into richness while the plants begin their last display of the year. It’s incredibly inspiring, and I often find myself wishing I had the time to sit and paint.

That chance rarely comes, but I do collect leaves—small treasures from walks to and from school with my kids, errands, or a walk on my own. Each one carries a palette of ideas offered by nature.

Today, during a midday walk, I found the most striking red leaves, mottled and glowing against the ground. I didn’t have time to linger, so I picked up a handful to press and study later. Oddly, when I laid them out, I realized I couldn’t identify them. I’m a lifelong lover and observer of nature, plants, and gardens, so that almost never happens. I’m intrigued, so I’ll have to go back and study the tree they fell from to try to solve the mystery.

For now, though, the leaves sit with me. Vivid and insistent, they’ve already begun pulling me in. If I can find the time soon, I suspect they’ll find their way onto paper.