The maples could make you cry. I'm serious. I've been struck with the pain of beauty so many times in the last couple of days, while driving. Want so much to stop and absorb it. To paint it, bathe in it, inhale it, eat it. You probably have to feel it from inside a tree. Up in the branches, at least. Feeling it sway and watching the whole, tented, verdant leaves scintillate in the sunshine.
Leaves at this time of year are amazing. They're pristine, nourished, pungent. Their youthful translucence is deepening into something rich and virile.
I'm using all these words because I haven't found the right one. And because this is all about profusion, fecundity, extravagance.
Juice. Verve. Drive.
Leaves at this time of year are amazing. They're pristine, nourished, pungent. Their youthful translucence is deepening into something rich and virile.
I'm using all these words because I haven't found the right one. And because this is all about profusion, fecundity, extravagance.
Juice. Verve. Drive.
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