I do wonder if I sometimes take leaves for granted, only really noticing them fully in the autumn months. But their very absence and presence mark the rhythms of our year; some months are quieter than others, granted, but there is always a beautiful shape to observe, a colour to appreciate.
I like to look up at the leaves, craning my head as far back as I can towards the treetops and the sky. In the spring there might not be leaves but there are layers of frothy pink blossom.
In the summer we enjoy the shade provided by the lush, dense canopy of leaves in full green splendour. I especially love the dappled effect of sunlight filtering through the leaves and was thrilled to discover that the Japanese have a word for precisely this: komorebi.
Looking upwards in the autumn is just as rewarding. There is less dappling, but more depth, more structure.
And in the winter? No leaves, just the monochrome, arterial look of bare branches reaching towards the sky.
Each full of drama and colour in their own way.
But autumn. Oh, how I love being in the woods in the autumn.
I think it's the smell, and that's down to the rotting vegetation. Whether I'm kicking dry leaves or squelching through wet ones, I don't know when I ever take such a childlike delight in the moment, or feel so fully present in a season.
Almost every sense is catered for; the smell of decay, the feel of the cold air on your face and ground underfoot, the visual delight in the of the leaves, the sounds of birds or the wind in the trees, a rustle in the undergrowth. Ok, maybe not taste. You'll have to take a picnic for that one.
But right now, it's a rowdy display of colour, a rainbow put on by nature. Something to store up in the sensory-memory bank to nourish us in the more subdued months ahead.
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Don't forget to visit the other Colour Collaborative blogs for more of this month's posts, just click on the links below:
What is The Colour Collaborative?
All creative bloggers make stuff, gather stuff, shape stuff, and share stuff. Mostly they work on their own, but what happens when a group of them work together? Is a creative collaboration greater than the sum of its parts? We think so and we hope you will too. We'll each be offering our own monthly take on a colour related theme, and hoping that in combination our ideas will encourage us, and perhaps you, to think about colour in new ways.