This time of year the Vermont hillsides are mostly bare of leaves. I find the leaves that are left, perhaps because they are the few remaining, to be inordinately beautiful, especially against the blue sky.
What is left are the “bones” of those trees—the trunks and branches—allowing me to see the shapes that were hidden all summer long.
I celebrate this time of being able to see the bones of trees. It takes only a few moments of setting aside my own busy thoughts to become completely enchanted by these miraculous living beings.
Today the wind was blowing hard. The last few leaves launched across the sky, branches swinging back and forth. Yes, no doubt, some came down but most are still there for another day, even the snowy days that are coming soon. The bones will rest until spring puts them to work pumping life back into the trees. Until then, I’ll be happy to walk a back-county road lined with these old friends of mine.