Once again, New England flaunts its
coat of glorious color.
The tourists come with cameras
snapping pictures to share with relatives back home.

This year, fall arrives as a wet and windy morning storm
surrendering to blue skies and brisk breezes by noon.
Fallen leaves swirl in the streets
settling on sidewalks and lawns.
The bracing air is faintly laced with chimney smoke.

Seduced, I explore a winding country road
where leaves of red and gold
shimmer on trees in the cold sunlit wind.
Stopping at the top of a hill
my eyes linger on a lush green meadow
edged with a border of brilliant hues.
Beyond, a patchwork quilt blankets the hills and valleys.
The late afternoon sun illuminates the landscape
with lengthening shadows and highlights,
sculpting depth and contrast into nature's canvas.

This must be God's studio.

I sit on a stone wall and stare in awe at this panorama
so stunning in its beauty,
yet bittersweet in its brief season
before the leaves fall
and the trees extend bare branches
to the stark winter sky.
I take leave of myself
and stay in the moment
until darkness falls.



Copyright 2001 Virginia Carlson

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