It was deliciously cold this morning.
I’m a four-season girl. As much as I bask the balmy breezes of late spring, I also adore a snap in the air as bracing as a strong cup of coffee. Silvery frost covered my neighborhood as I headed out on my walk, making the leaves extra crunchy under foot.
With the end of Daylight Savings Time, U.S. residents like me are slowly acclimating to the changing light. It means that suddenly my morning walks are sunrise walks, despite not being particularly early. That is, when the sun isn’t covered by rain clouds.
We’ve just come off a particularly cloudy, rainy stretch. That made this morning extra special as the sun said hello for the first time in days.
Once the sun climbed all the way past the trees, I took about 20 pictures, trying to capture the light on the remaining autumn leaves. I didn’t quite get it right, but the effort forced me look around with more attention.
This year’s colors got off to a slow start. It took a few cold nights to finally bring vibrancy to the colors but since then they’ve put on one glorious show after another. I forget the trees have this in them, that their “real” color isn’t green but these vivid reds and yellows and oranges and purples and browns. It takes the short days and cold nights to bring the color out. And, just days after the colors change, the leaves fall and the trees go dormant for months.
I’m sure there is a metaphor here for our own lives: how trials reveal our true colors; how dormancy isn’t death, just rest; how everything is growing until the day it dies. But today, I was too distracted by how wonderful the cold air felt on my skin to be literary. Instead, I just breathed and looked and was grateful.
Very, very grateful.
All pictures taken by me, with an iPhone. #nofilters