Red Leaves

I have a window in my kitchen that is a picture frame for the garden. This week, the leaves have turned, as they do every Autumn, a stunning shade of red.

I see the seasons changing just looking at the leaves and the light in their wooden, glass-covered frame. A moving picture.

And you wouldn’t think that these leaves are now dying. There is nothing here that speaks of loss, or of fading away. Green has become a shade of red more vibrant than blood in an explosion of colour that seems to put colour itself to shame. They are, frankly, extraordinary.

I always think of the colder seasons as a time to curl up, hide away, prepare to hibernate. Yet these leaves are out in all their glory. Enjoying what is perhaps their finest hour.

They suggest, or offer up, a different possibility. The discovery of a joyful, red-blooded warmth within myself – one that is capable of lighting up the world around me – even as that world turns cold and grey. The possibility of turning a colour and becoming an energy that is all the more surprising for the context in which I find myself. The possibility of not allowing myself to be defined, or limited, by the world around me.

strangeoldlife

Sarah Nabarro View All →

New mum, old soul... Finding beauty, wisdom, spirituality, and opportunities for learning in the everyday (hopefully)...

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