By Banah Isaac Wright’s Hollow, New Hampshire
October 28,2022
Leaf Fall
They went today. A strong wind blew up, and the leaves that had been hanging on to their trees had no choice but to let go.
When I looked out the window at eight o’ clock this morning, the low-growing beech tree whose skirts had sheltered much of the
island from sight, still had its glowing burnt orange leaves. When I looked again at ten, it was totally bare. Its curtain was now the forest carpet.
Out in the wind, as I strode to the brook, loving the strength of it, hearing the roar in the woods, I looked up. It was raining leaves,
thousands of them, hitting the ground with dry taps. The branches were bare, except for one taller tree, its last yellow survivors glittering in the sun; and waving like flags..
Even the light had changed. For weeks, we’ve been bathed in gradually softening light, as the heavy green canopy changed to gold,
to orange, to red, to bronze, to brown. The sun glowed through them, and the light was glory.
Suddenly, it was a stark white from a cobalt blue sky. There was nowhere to hide. All the shady places were completely exposed.
Tonight, I’ve come inside and lit a fire. Its flames have the golden orange color that we just lost outside.
fromanislandinnewhampshire 