Autumn leaves on house lined streets – reds, yellows, and oranges swirling on a blacktop pond. Chilly air makes them dance in a whirlwind up towards a grey sky, then floats them back to the turbulent surface, bidding their branches goodbye. Bursts of color share garden space with limp plants who give way to the cold. Though soon, the mums, roses, and Michelmas daisy, will fade into lonely shades of frostbitten black – barely distinguishable from the bleak sky above. The plants will wither into the frozen ground under a bed of white snow; some are eased into a peaceful slumber while others receive a quiet death, never to return or grow. Birch, maples, aspens, and oaks are dropping their lovely cloaks; becoming skeletons for a winter graveyard – forlorn, bitter, and cold.Yet still, the Golden-crowned Kinglet sings, eating red berries off an evergreen. Bulbs underground receive a trickle of water – nursing them for a sunny splendor. Perennials lay low for now, but oh the show they have in store. And the trees again, will don their cloaks with trinkets of flowers and seed pods galore. A time of rebirth comes year after year in a cycle of the seasons. And even in the coldest winter, life beats still and warm – and nature fills the land with beauty in various dazzling forms.
View out my front door this time last year.
Idaho Explorer 