The smell of leaves can sometimes reach you before you even see them
open the window, close your eyes and inhale, they’re there
that earthy smell that’s mixed with dirt and the last vestiges of summer grass
and the cooler air that carries with it the scent of trees and dying plants
Taste the air and it feels like home–when home was rosy dusks, cool breezes, and warm hearths filled with love
When I open my eyes it is a feast for sure, in both color and shape, from the handprint star of the chestnut, to the familiarity of the maple, it is a joy to see the ashes and oaks rain down their pointed leaves in the slightest breeze
Looking at a single tree, you’ll see a timeless, visible change–the green that mixes with the yellow and ends with twinges of red and orange that will soon inflame the entirety of it
watch the shimmer of a tree branch as the wind loosens its fronds, while the sun makes it sparkle one last time
have you ever stopped to hear leaves fall, sometimes one at a time, sometimes as a shower
the soft click…tick…click they make as the hit the hard pavement, and the muted tuft as they merge with the soft grass
trees speak together as well, hearing the dried leaves shake as they wave their seasonal goodbyes
Not tearful, final ones, but goodbyes that chuckle “see you on the other side”
the sagacious bee 