The last leaf on our Maple tree has changed from green to red. Autumn is here, and almost past. This tree always changes at the end of the season when many others have already lost their leaves and become bare.
Recently I found a photo taken the day we moved into our house, moving truck backed up to the garage, Maple tree bare. It was the day before Thanksgiving seven years ago next month.
Even though much has changed about our house in these seven years what stood out to me was the size of the Maple tree; at least half its present height, almost spindly.
How much this tree has grown right before my eyes. How much shade it offers in summer. How much glory in fall. How much promise in winter and spring.
It is that time when autumn is no longer fresh, the fallen leaves are turning crispy and my perennials are starting to brown. It is cooler more than it is warm now; we have had our first frost.
Maybe I will be there to catch the last leaf from our Maple tree when it falls; still and watching as it floats toward me, maybe I will be there to see what is right before my eyes.