Leaf by Leaf
the wind
tears away autumn.
by john tiong chunghoo.
Hmm... he claims this is a Haiku, I don't agree; strictly speaking it is not, but it is rather lovely and unless am inspired by the end of downloading the tracks offerings this sunday, it will have to do... but I challenge all readers (yes, all six of you!) to write me an autumn haiku..three lines, 17 syllables, five each line, yes yes I know you all know that but just in case...I shan't be at all worried if I don't get any contributions, just a thought. Sya has such good ideas to get folk reading or interacting with her blog and she has hundreds of followers.
I was struck how lovely the track was today and how I wished we took a leaf (no pun intended) out of nature; it dies down for the most part with such grace and such beauty. All along the path leaves in different stages of dying were like jewels. The old fence post above, slowly returning to source but stunning.We see it every year, knowing there is a kind of rebirth. I fear dying less and less, if I ever did that is, for each autumn I love that it always brings a sort of understanding of things.
There was no sun today but walking along was sheer pleasure, the wonderful crunching of feet on millions of gold leaves, there had been no rain so they were crisp and crunchy, this weekend last year there was thick snow and it was an altogether different crunch of feet. I have no idea if I could have eaten the mushroom above but it was huge and lovely and deserved to stay just where it was.
this photo does not do this lovely leaf justice; every one of the leaves on this tree was in a different stage of decay, had it been sunny this one would have looked luminous such was its papery thin skin, hmmm do leaves have skin, I think not.
You know I have no idea why I write this blog (but then, why does anyone?) This walk matters to me and my father tried to teach me look at nature and that the closer I looked the more I would love it and want to protect it. Of course, when he was trying to do this I was not in the mood for listening, but I do understand. Age brings a wisdom that I am not clever enough to articulate. I pick up a stick for the fire and move on, lugging camera and bags of kindling. It is so warm I have no coat. I fall and cannot easily get a grip to get up; but there, right next to me almost at ankle level, is a tiny bunch of black berries. I must have passed them lots times today but had not noticed them.
Nearly done... it's just my sunday walk really, but it has given me so much including being exhibited and having a whole day on a photo shoot by a acclaimed scottish photographer for a book I was included in. It has given quiet moments when I have missed the islands to a point of grieving and of course it has hidden me in plain sight when I really have been grieving or just wanting peace and quiet. I have seen deer and owls and hedgehogs and lovely people. It has taught me really look at what is around me and that, of course, we are not finished yet.
I liked the look of a painting in this photo of a young man walking along the track; it was so quiet I could hear his footsteps for a long way as he walked towards avoch.
so there we have it; the old railway track today, still holding on to some green, some birds, some heart. I think this is a haiku..the best i could do for now-
Leaf on leaf falling
this tree and that softly weeps
yellow tears, the green clings
x
