Autumn leaves are falling all around us these days. There seem to be more on the ground than on the trees.
Gypsy and I were walking this afternoon and it occurred to me that perhaps this year I missed the colors of the autumn leaves. Were they vibrant gold, crimson and orange? Did they shimmer in the sunshine, contrast greatly with the green pines and stand out beautifully against the Carolina blue sky? Or did it rain so often that when the sun shone, I only appreciated the sun and overlooked the changing of the trees? Did I pause even to breathe in the warmth of the sun?
Yesterday morning I was speaking with an acquaintance and we both lamented the recent busyness of our lives. I admitted that I’ve not been a practitioner of what I preach. “The rest of this week I am not doing, doing, doing and going, going, going,” I said. “I am being.” I meant doing as little as possible, catching my breath, sitting and reading, wondering, walking (not as a chore), and writing in my journal.
What a relief.
So today walking with Gypsy I noticed the leaves on the ground.