I love walking on crisp, sunny autumn days. The air is always exquisitely fresh, it’s just cold enough to make you feel it on the tip of your nose, but not enough to give you the shivers. I love hearing the leaves rustle and crunch under my feet. They are numerous enough to cover up the entire forest, like a thick layer of carpet overlying the mud underneath that would’ve otherwise rendered the trail inaccessible. Their colours tell so many stories – some are a gentle yellow, some a bold red, some vibrantly orange, some desperately green, and others have completed moved forward from their relationship with their host tree. Well, downward, rather, to the ground. Or, in a way, backward, back to the Earth, making a full circle.

Funnily, a few days ago, winter poked its head out for just a brief moment, laying down a pale layer of icing overtop. It quickly melted away, leaving behind a soft echo. “I will be back…”

Before then, the days will continue to alternate between wind, rain and sun, until next year’s autumn. I am ever so grateful to be able to fully enjoy and breathe through every moment of the change of seasons. As we are shown again and again, nothing, nothing ever, should be taken for granted.

A community garden, going to rest for the winter, and then waiting to flourish again.