Letting Go

There is always something so intriguing in fallen autumn leaves. The colours, textures and patterns come in a myriad of possibilities. They call us to slow down and notice, to take it all in before the winter comes and the colour is gone. There is a beauty in what is essentially a collection of dead leaves and, year after year, it is something I delight in. 

When I took my camera into my garden a week ago, these fallen leaves caught my eye. I had planned to photograph the frost, but something about them really spoke to me. The way trees relinquish their leaves to survive the winter and prepare for spring almost feels like a conscious decision. A way to survive the approaching winter and make space for the coming spring. There is so much beauty in that place of letting go, even though I do it with a lot less grace than the trees. Seeing the textures and patterns in surrender. It’s like drawing in a deep breath and slowly allowing yourself the stillness of a slow exhale.

As the end of the year approaches, I find myself asking what do I need to relinquish? What am I being asked to surrender? How can I take the time to pause in the stillness of the approaching winter and find the beauty in what I have allowed to fall.