I’ve been collecting and photographing leaves for the past few weeks now, becoming a bit obsessed. I love all the colours and hues and shapes that nature creates. The natural world is but a beautiful kaleidoscope.
Everyone who knows me, knows just how much I love autumn (have I mentioned that before?), and it’s clear from going over old diaries and journals that I’ve written about autumn endlessly. It was interesting then to find this short extract which references autumn leaves:
If you’re travelling, you’re in transit. Not in any particular place. It’s a strange limbo between two worlds. I had left but hadn’t arrived, was with no-one and didn’t need to do anything at all. I was untraceable for that fleeting moment.
Staring out at the passing landscape and scenery, I wrote down what I saw. The leaves that autumn were almost edible in the descriptions I gave them: marmalade, tangerine, cinnamon, ohre.
On certain days, the colours drain away, become more like shadows. I love the power of black and white.
And every journey has a beginning, an end, and some bends in the road…
Finally, as I was thinking about writing this post, a tiny leaf blew in the window and landed right on the keyboard of my laptop. Autumn is my season.