The leaves are falling fast now - in extravagant, loopy, lonely twirls and sudden swirling showers - carpeting the ground. We have passed peak color and the remaining canopy is fading from the vibrant oranges and reds, to the soft brown of impending winter. Even on Indian summer days like today - when windows are thrown open and bare feet once again tramp the ground - a small sadness at the passing of such transitory beauty fills me. The scenery changes a little each day, some days feels gradual, others striking. But the awareness of the closing of yet another season is near. That awareness the constant change brings makes it easier to notice surroundings and stop to dwell in the moment, count blessings, and breathe deep. The golden tinged sadness of time's passage.
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