Fall morning, NYC
Morning walk, chill in the air, late November. The color should be gone but instead it is exploding, bright, resisting winter.
I was born on a morning like this, full of contradictions. I am more alive in winter than in summer. The leaves shine with the gold of sunlight and celebration and I draw that light into myself as the leaves quiver before falling to the ground. The air is cold but as it flows around my face it warms me, bringing a flush to my cheeks. The days shorten but the lengthening darkness fills with passion.
Is this denial or defiance? Is it the last burst of energy before a long hibernation, or is it the spark that lights the bonfire by which we dance in the dark until the spring?
Beautifully evocative post, Molly. The golden glow of these lovely photos enhances your words. Thank you.
Thanks Tess. You know, there was a point during that walk when I wanted to take off all my clothes and lie down naked in a big pile of bright yellow leaves….what stops us from doing such things?