autumn comes in patchwork along the palisades and bluffs - the river sluggish and muddy with recent rain. the lemony-leafed walnuts turn first, then the buff hickories, pale, drab in comparison. cordovan-colored sumac graces the ditches...now and again bittersweet, but without so many fencerows, the bittersweet is rare. showy maples blaze orange and crimson, the big oaks are reticent. they will come along, brown and bronze and stately. they will lose their leaves last, and late. some are early touched with yellow and red paintbrushed tops, show-offs.
i have seen oak leaves and maple leaves wider than my palm, falling gracefully to the ground, silhouettes in the blacktop roads. i tuck them into the old bible, where they lose color before you close the pages, fading between layers of waxed paper - believing a somehow just once they will retain their brilliance.
believing just this once i will capture them, their fleeting scent and vibrant colors will stay...and autumn will be more than an ellipsis between august and november.
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