TI♥T: Autumn

There is something honest and unexpected in Autumn's vibrancy. In a season of decay, the flush of death on the leaves brings out their best. The rattling sighs of wind in the now dry branches seem so much more real than the timid tittering whispers of Spring.

I expect each year to be sad when Summer ends. Where I grew up, Autumn largely meant frost on the yellowed grass, a brief week or two of slendid golden Aspens, heralding the oncoming grey that would only be relieved by Winter.

Winter. Brilliant, white and pristine, until the snowmobiles, snow tires, and 4x4s dug up the underlying grime. With fresh snow there was a purity I enjoyed. The magical lace of frost on the windows. Glass covered ponds. Trees made mystical by hoar frost.

Autumn had little of that beauty. And so, the orange, red, yellow warm prism that greeted me this morning as I walked to UVic still occured as a surprised even though this is my ninth island Autumn. And even though I know those colours are really just the beauty of decay.