I can see the trees reflected through the glass and windows. Bare branches, clinging vibrant, dying leaves. At home, the maple is bare this morning. Last night's wind shaking free the glowing yellow leaves that only yesterday were gently waving as I passed by on my way to the door.
Why did it bother me to see the tree so barren? The branches were now exposed - red, maroon, lovely.
Was it the suddenness of the change? Overnight - literally. It takes some adjustment on my part. Some catching up to where nature has already gone.
I want to slow it all down. This changing of the seasons and this big changing of my seasons. He's a senior in high school, already. I woke up and the trappings of childhood had fallen away. Here he is. Taller, leaner, exposed. And even though I've surely felt the winds of this change blowing ferociously, I'm still startled by what cannot be denied in the morning's cloudy light.
He's letting go. And now I have some catching up to do.
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