In deep summer when our fireworks splattered the night sky, the trees watched, admiring our short-lived brightness. Twenty seconds of spangled light is not bad for creatures who can’t sit still and have no roots.
Early October the trees ignite a firework display of incandescent reds, yellows, greens, and browns. The lucent leaves flare up, blazing in blue sky for days on end, burning memories on our callous hearts, consuming all our indifference.
The month ends in ashes, colors fading to somber brown, but not before the trees remind us that we are alive, that the world is full of pageantry, and that a beauty fierce enough to split the earth, a beauty anchored by desire in time and place, is here, now, waiting for us to open our eyes and look.