The scarlet leaf flutters silently onto the green and white checked cloth that covers the basket of food. The basket rests on a big patchwork quilt in a small clearing on top of a forested hill. The leaf, shinny and perfect, lies expectantly, pleased with it’s resting place after a long summer filled with adventures.
Here and there, all around the leaves are falling. One here, one there, in a constant procession from branch to forest floor. Yellow, orange, red, maroon, and brown in all sizes and shapes, they drift gracefully to lie at the feet of the tree that bore them through all the thunders and suns and moonlit nights of the season. The Beech, the Maples, the Walnut and the Oak, the generous trees of sap and nuts, the givers of food for man and beast, and beauty for the souls of human beings.
This scarlet leaf lies quietly, the perfect symbol of the splendiforous autumn season. It burns it’s way into my soul, and reminds me of some grandeur that I knew once. Some kingdom far from here that longs to speak to me, “Remember us !”
A blue sky accompanies this tableau, a sky streaked here and there with swaths of cirrus clouds, high and cold. The sun of a warm afternoon that is too quickly racing toward twilight shines with slanting rays to better highlight the multicolored leaves’ flight. Dry grasses stand sentry, overlooking the scene with stern warnings of mortality. But not despairing because at their feet are shoots waiting for their turn at glory days.
The leaves inch by inch are covering the forest soil, laying a blanket to warm the toes of all the woodland plants through the frost and snow that are sure to come soon. The air is fresh and filled with the sharp dry smells of ripeness and harvest. A satisfied breath after a long summer’s season. At the first rain, the other aroma will come, the decomposing tang that will accompany the winter realm. That dampness will change everything.
But today, the clean dryness is like a wicker basket of folded laundry that has hung all day in the sun. Twice clean, of sight and smell. The reward of a good day’s work, simple and honest.
And what is our reward, at the end of this perfect day? Peek under the checkered cloth and see. Deviled egg sandwiches on brown bread, a spinach salad with almonds and mandarin oranges. Cheese and crackers and lemon tarts. And here in a little box decorated with paper lace and ribbon, are chocolate covered coconut candies the size of walnuts, slightly warmed by the sun. And to wash it all down an earthen jug of apple cider, tart and sweet. An autumn feast.
If we lie here quietly, sated with good food and harvest dreams, we will soon be covered with leaves. Take a little nap, but make it quick, Jack Frost is headed this way. And when it’s time to head for home, don’t forget to take the scarlet leaf. We’ll press it in a favored book, to look upon on a frozen winter’s day.