Liquidambars didn’t only drop seedpods in the fall; they join other trees in putting on a dazzling show of arboreal fireworks. Almost boastfully, their leaves compete for attention—some yellow, some red, and some orange. The Japaneses maple leaves join the competition, turning a heavy red, its bending arms offering the leaves as a type of early wrapped Christmas gift to winter.
The bare ground from the dry days of summer reveals a storehouse of grass seeds that sprout as the temperature cools and the moisture promises to stay.
And somewhere between the dying and living are the oak trees that stand their ground, holding strong to their color and form, but even they sacrifice acorns to the changing season, littering the ground with squirrel feed.
Fall reminds us the the inevitability of death isn’t a hopeless downhill charge. It ought to be full of color and sprouts of new life.
