Falling Leaves
The fall of the leaf is a sad thing whether it comes at the end of October or in the darker days of November. One year it seems as though the trees might hold their leaves in December and then a gale springs up and one looks out to find the wood bare. I thought the changing colour of the leaves took place a little early this year. The sycamores faded and went yellow before I was ready for autumn and I noticed the ground beneath the oaks was almost covered by domes of green scab something like lentils and found the leaves dying fast. There is, however, a period between the death of the leaf and its fall, a spell when the breeze makes the wood alive with rustle and movement. We had that phase when the afternoon sun made the wood an enchanted place, and then it ended this week with a gale. Now the path through the trees is ankle-deep in leaves and niost of the branches are bare. We are nearer winter, but at least we can admire the beech and the birch for the beauty of their bark and the shape of the trees themselves..
Previous page
