As Autumn Leaves Fly

The owls call out to each other, their voices low and solemn in the predawn darkness.  The coffee pot gurgles reassuringly.  I hear the light footsteps of coyote in my garden.  My head is full of thoughts of butterflies, Monarchs migrating, golden wings against a blue California sky. And Autumn leaves, the yellow of Cottonwoods...

I found myself disappointed yesterday as I walked past a tall stand of Cottonwoods.  They didn't have much color.  They seemed to have gone from green to brown without the glorious color of other years.  But, just then a breeze came and rustled the tall branches way up high.  Dozens of leaves were sent flying downward, above my head, swirling, gliding, laughing "What fun!"  I couldn't help but smile and stop to watch them.

And, at that moment, it didn't matter about their color.  They held in their flight the magic of all the other times I'd watched Autumn leaves fall.  For that moment... it was all Autumns.