It feels like a sacred act to witness the leaves falling.
It feels like a secret initiation to behold the changing of colors. With leaves on top blushing red, while the bottom leaves remain green and all the other shades are represented in the in between. This becomes a testament, a visual representation, a reflection of the process of change.
The reason it feels like such a gift, is that most change is imperceivable. Something we rarely get to visually see, until we are on the side of whatever it is. Normally one cannot view the evolution, for it is subtle and elusive.
We cannot see a child grow day to day.
We cannot see a loved one age day to day.
There are so many things we are blind to in the immediate, in the slow graceful shifting of change.
The leaves are slow and graceful in their shift, and yet they linger long enough so we can absorb their beauty, so we can prepare for what is to come next.
Now many trees are bare, with a skirt of leaves hugging the roots, assisting in the next part of the trees life and transformation.
And we all wait, for what is to come next.