Leaves

Fall produces one of those miracles that come almost imperceptibly, gradually, naturally, familiar and yet new each time - like a sweet melody of old that slowly gains in tone and volume till it explodes in a magnificent crescendo of heavenly music. I am talking about the leaves...

In spring, when trees stand bare and thin with empty branches reaching towards faint sunshine, there is a miracle too - it is one of budding little green things, buttons, bulbs and rising saps that unfold in warming air to create a lovely spring green canopy around us and above our heads.

But now it is autumn and the air is getting cooler and full of moisture. Trees and shrubs seem to gather their wits about them in order to produce one final splendid show before it is time to pack up and close down for winter. Unlike us women who can gaze indecisively at our wardrobe: "Can I wear this colour? Would it match that colour?", trees have no problem deciding what their colour will be this year - they simply go for what works for them. So the Japanese cherry trees go for golden yellow, bright red and flaming orange. The trees lining our street opt for yellow, green-brown and nicely striped or speckled mixtures of that. Beeches turn a deep purple like robes of a cardinal for special celebrations, lime trees prefer a mellow yellow. One particular shrub around here with elegant long branches and roundish leaves seems to be gathering energy for the most amazing colour spurt of all: from green to dark purple to a marvellous light-catching brilliant red that takes your breath away... Only the evergreens stay calm and unperturbed, deaf to the autumn symphony of colours and falling leaves. Because invariably each leaf eventually shrivels up, loses its grip on the branch, twirls around a bit, then joins the others piling up on the sidewalk. This is another pleasant surprise - walking through heaps of dry rustling leaves brings back memories of childhood. Kicking up leaves or gathering them up and throwing them as high as you could was a pleasure, as were smells of autumn: a vaguely familiar sweetness mixed in with decay and brittleness.

On the practical side, there is of course the question of what to do with all those leaves covering sidewalks and clogging drains. Is it better to gather them up and cram them into the gft disposal bin? Or sweep them into the middle of the street so cars crush them into dust that gets blown away to settle as natural compost on gardens and strips of village greenery? Surely wet leaves become a slippery health hazard for frail pedestrians? But is hauling up loads of nature's waste healthy for us? Should we offer our neighbour an opportunity for good deeds or better gain 'browny points' ourselves?

It is a puzzle that may best be pondered by a cozy fireplace, with a nice drink to warm our heart and spirit. Have a good autumn!