Every fall I hold my breath and wait for this one moment… the moment when Autumn arrives in all her glory and I can have that one beautiful day of colorful fall foliage and sunshine. So far in my life, I have had a few of these days, but they are very rare. For oftentimes the wind or frost steal the leaves away before the trees have had the chance to put on a perfect show on a sunny day. But still every year I wait and hope that this will be the time that I finally go on a walk or drive where I can fully appreciate the beauty of fall. I have this hope that one of these days I will capture it in a photo. This year I have gone on some nice autumn walks but have been unable to take a photo that matches the beauty of the fall leaves as they drift in the wind and softly fall to the ground. This is the picture that I see in my mind when I think of Autumn…a memory from a fall day long ago that I have yet to reexperience. So, this year, instead of taking a photo, I wrote a poem to capture the beauty of Autumn’s last dance on a sunny fall day…
Autumn’s Last Dance By Krista Longeway The wind tells an old tale Of Autumn’s final days Dressed in crimson and gold Autumn dances and plays Just one last gentle kiss From Summer’s cheerful rays Then Summer’s warmth gives way To the beauty of fall We watch the trees get dressed For Autumn’s final ball One last graceful dance will Bring an end to it all For now the fateful time Is drawing swiftly nigh Above we hear the trees Begin to softly sigh The moment has arrived To say their last good-bye The trees sway in the wind Their music’s in the air Leaves twirl and dance along Scattering here and there Until each trembling tree Stands very nearly bare And then beneath her feet The leaves peacefully lay Now sleeping quietly At the end of the day To wait so patiently For Winter’s new display
A lovely capture of the essence of fall. My favorite autumn days have been spent in Larch Valley and Sentinal Pass where the needles of the Alpine Larch trees turn golden, surrounded by lofty peaks, glaciers and milky-blue tarns.
This year, here in Ontario, the maples didn’t turn crimson but were still lovely in orange or yellow.