At this time of year the evidence of decay is all around us. There is a type of beauty in such decay. The changing pigments eventually give way, the colours gradually fading out. The leaves show blemishes and tears. It has a fragile beauty. Wrinkled parchment, with a luminosity. Many leaves are still on the trees, but at any moment the last of the life force will drain away and one leaf or another will detach itself from its branch and float silently to the ground.
No comments:
Post a Comment