Some trees in our woodland hold their turning in abeyance until November, and we are always happy to see them. Great oaks often retain their bronzey leaves well into winter and so do a few maples. One of our favorite maples puts on a magnificent golden performance at this time of the year, and we visit her to admire her one woman showing and say "thanks" for her efforts to brighten a faded and rather monochromatic interval in the turning of the seasons.
It has been a very windy autumn, and we were delighted to discover this week that the north wind has not yet stripped the tree's leaves away and left her standing bare and forlorn on the hill with her sisters. It (the wind, that is) has been doing its best, but Maple is hanging on in there.
Mother Earth (the Old Wild Mother or Gaia Sophia) is the greatest artist of them all, and I would be "over the moon" if I could photograph or paint something even the smallest scrip as grand and elemental and graceful as my tree is creating in her alcove. Every curve and branch and burnished dancing leaf is a wonder, and the blue sky is a perfect counterpoint.
Writing this, I remembered that as well as being an archaic word for a scrap or fraction of something, scrip also describes a small wallet or pouch once carried by pilgrims and seekers. That seems fitting for this journey into the woods and our breathless standing under Maple in all her glory. Oh to be counted a member of the sisterhood of tree and leaf...
3 comments:
Some days there is something so wonderful that it takes my breath away!
What a beauty! Perhaps a silver maple? Though mine has leaves more yellow than that saturated gold. I am glad she has you to admire and love her.
Your Maple looks like our Norway maples: same large leaves, wonderful butterscotch golden colour. Autumn has been slow here on Long Island. Our Norways are still green or just beginning to turn. On a rainy day their leaves are like sunlight dancing in the air.
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