We are now in full-blown “twig” season(no leaves). It is always a difficult transition for me and I suspect many others, from psychedelic autumn to astringent winter. The added circadian clunker of the hour change does not help. But I shall not digress.
I take more than a passing interest in the fall foliage display. Leaves are beautiful both physically and symbolically, and I’ve been fascinated by their essentially infinite forms, when fresh or dry, for many years. Leaf beauty endures from their overwintering buds to the last remnants of their decay. It can be said our lives depend on leaves, as they are the heavy-lifters in absorbing C02 and producing oxygen through photosynthesis, not to mention their value as a food source. So it’s not hard to imagine why we may feel a kinship for them, beyond the practical and aesthetic.
Literally leaves sacrifice themselves on a yearly schedule for the overall health of the tree and to feed the soil.
Symbolically, their willing sacrifice in autumn can be seen as a metaphor for any kind of sacrifice of the individual for the greater good.
Like many people I find them especially appealing in autumn when they are more available to the senses of touch, smell and sound as well as sight. Here are some views from days not so long past.