The day begins chilly. I hear the eerie bark-screech of a fox in the early-morning dark; a wild sound. We light a fire and sip coffee, wrapped in robe and shawl, and watch as daylight makes its slow emergence. The sunrise lights up the leaves in the woods beyond the windows – yellow, gold, orange, umber, cherry, russet. A thin ribbon of mist hovers over the lower pasture, where the cows lie cloaked and contented, with an hour still to go before milking time.
I am enraptured by fall – it seems particularly stunning this year. Or perhaps I’m just paying more attention to the way the clarified light shines through the leaves, making them glow. We take Croom Road on our way home from school, relishing the beautiful countryside, passing through a tunnel of yellow-leafed trees illuminated by the buttery late afternoon sunlight. It takes my breath away.
Fall is a season of changing colors and shedding leaves, signaling an end. It fills me with a wistfulness, and also a thrill of hope for what’s to come – the new – as I marvel at the transformation unfolding before my eyes.