The leaves are losing their grip on life and finding their graves on hardened stone. Concrete, man-made, artificial, the furthest away from nature possible. I grieve for these beautiful artifacts that once graced our skies like intricate lace against palest blue. Their lives will end in green cellophane sacks, hauled onto a truck — destination unknown.
It’s pumpkin season and here’s a classic jack o’lantern carved this weekend. Unfortunately I couldn’t take part as I was stuck in bed, but the kid did good (with a bit of help from his dad). I love autumn and the changing colours of the leaves and how suddenly orange is beautiful. (Let’s face it that’s not true year round 😬) I’m in the middle of writing book two and trees are on my mind, their life and death cycle, their lifespan across centuries or cut short by logging. Their significance in our world and our lives. What do pumpkins have to do with any of this? Perhaps it’s all the falling orange leaves collecting in piles along the pavement. Their beauty astounds me, even as the gardeners blow them to kingdom come with their god awful loudly inhuman leaf blowers. Autumn is here. Joy all around, and feel free to #wearorange 🍁