Autumns breath runs through the forest, a vesper of change.
Shorter days and cooler nights trigger that ancient drawing in of being.
The delicate leaves cannot produce more food for the trees with these curtailed conditions.
Without grief the trees allow them to fall, there is no holding on.
Yet at this time, the leaves remain full of sugars and other minerals, it is now that the trees convert this into energy to be drawn deeply into their mighty boles.
The leftovers quickly oxidise in the cool autumnal airs and turn a fiery red.
This final blazon, an homage to the grace of a summer ended.
All that remains, is for these boreal beings to close the base of the leaves against the coming storms.
Once complete, this silvan scab releases leaf toward the awaiting mould.
The great wheel turns once more and carries us towards the cleansing winter of both soul and ecology.
Photo courtesy of the author.