Autumn Leaves and the Stories they Hold

Autumn: Yellow leaves, brisk air, the smell of wood burning fireplaces, and the lighting having a different cast to it.  I sit at my garden tea table and watch as leaves flutter to the ground in the breeze.  This is my own personal slice of Autumn.  If I leave here, I will not walk into a forest of yellow trees. No, there are not a lot of Autumn leaves here in Topanga, as the canyon is mainly chaparral.  The nicest color will be from the giant Sycamores that grow mostly down by the creek. Another source of yellow can be found in the Wild Walnut Trees that dot the hillsides and the State Parks. The trees by my table are native trees: Fremont Cottonwood Populas fremontii.

This is my corner, where I can remember all of the other Autumns, all connected by yellow leaves, like messengers with stories to tell.  I recall trips to forests in Chicagoland like Starved Rock, trips to woods in the California Mtns (San Bernadino Mtns & June Lake), walking on trails under yellow canopies, taking photographs and enjoying deep silence.  I recall my brother's wedding, the family posing for wedding pictures in an Autumn-colored meadow outside a small chapel on a glorious October day. And, I recall being a little girl, watching my parents raking up leaves in our big back yard, so I could jump in the pile and scatter them, laughing with my sister, before we eventually burned them.  Though I loved to watch the fire, I would never think of burning them now. Now I let them pile up all around, as long as they are still yellow they make me smile.

Each leaf is a messenger connecting me to the other Autumns.. yellow leaves and the stories they hold.