9. Falling Leaves by Olga Wisinger-Florian (1899) To walk over richly-coloured leaves strewn on the ground is one of autumn's most distinctive feelings; Wisinger-Florian captures it so perfectly that you can almost hear the leaves rustling, hear footsteps crackling over them. https://t.co/FtQQaNP3Gf
And in the humid ever-summer I dare his picturing mind not to go back to the shout of color, to the clean rasp of frosty air, to the smell of pine wood burning and the caressing warmth of kitchens. For how can one know color in perpetual green, and what good is warmth without cold to give it sweetness?
“In the fall, do leaves on the trees still change color if no one is there to see them?”
Autumn brought with it the slap-clatter of crows, fire smells, leafy sweet-rot. New corduroys, cold air, brown paper grocery bags folded over schoolbooks.
