There’s something about December which seems to drag on into an eternity. The days get shorter and shorter and colder and colder, and it almost seems like the world is narrowing down around me. There’s a grimness in the air. I start to forget that the world was ever warm, that it ever had colour, that it was ever alive, as everything around me becomes muffled and dark.
The fall is one of my favourite times of year. There are usually a few bright, sunny days, it’s rich with color, the air feels brisk and fresh and clean, there are occasional bouts of rain to scrub everything clean. It’s still technically fall right now, but it feels like winter, raw and cold and angry and dark. My bones ache. I want to hibernate somewhere in a corner where nothing will disturb me until spring starts to creep up again.
Today, my brain lusts for colour.
I still remember the afternoon when I took these, in late November. It was a warm day, with a hint of crispness in the air, and the sun was creating interesting light and shadows as it sat low on the southern horizon; low already, even though the Solstice was still a month away. The trees had abruptly turned, overnight, an explosion of colour, and the leaves had not yet started to fall, although sometimes they trembled in the winds that kicked up while I took these images.
It had recently rained, and the air smelled very clean, with a bit of earthiness from the dirt in the garden, which was still moist from the rain. There were also some jasmine overtones, as a few of the plants were blooming, or putting in a good faith effort, at least. It was one of those days where I felt like I was doing a million things, which seems to happen all the time, these days, and I forced myself to go take a break and take pictures of leaves.
I was astounded by the rich variation in colour. Each tree was slightly different, and on each tree, there were pockets of leaves which were still green, and a wide range of colours on the leaves that were turning. Each leaf seemed to be deciding independently on how it wanted to do this. Things which looked uniform in the distance resolved into layers of complexity up close.
I knew that I’d want to be reminded that these leaves existed. That they will come back. That winter will end, eventually. Because it will.