Of leaves, brown, yellow, orange, russet and bronze…


Cuddled up in blue jacket, woolies and a sky-blue pashmina, I step out into the crisp autumn air. Brrr. It bites into my fingers and I shove my hands deep into my pockets.  Tucking the scarf snug around my chin, I trudge on.

Clouds menacingly swirl about. Trees sway from side to side, shedding leaves at each bough (pun intended) and curtsy. Even birds are not taking a chance out in this gusty weather. Where are my feathered friends?

Bits of litter twirl in the air like little tornadoes having a field day. Garbage bins go bumpity-bump, window slats rattle and the wind howls creating a cacaphony of strange sounds. Chaos reigns.

I stop. Pause. Hesitatingly, I walk on; bracing myself against the force of the cold wind.

Leaves fall like confetti. Brown. Yellow. Orange. Russet. Bronze. Helter-skelter.

In front of me the noisy, rustling leaves form a carpet. But a little away from the madding crowd, a solitary sycamore leaf sits on the kerb. What beauty! It speaks. I listen…

“March on. Do not tarry. To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life’s path.”  Khalil Gibran

I march on.

© Maloquacious, 2011.

3 responses »

  1. Pingback: Do you ever wonder at the wonder of it all? « maloquacious

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