Yesterday the gardener blew all the fallen leaves off of the lawn and into the woods alongside my yard. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Gone was the parched grass of the mid summer, the browned and bare patches that had been burnt by the sun and eaten in secret binges by the four-legged residents who come out only at night. What remained was a velvet blanket of deep, jade green. When the sun went down, and the nearly full moon rose in the sky, the colors of fall were gone, but the pristine landscape remained.

I just returned to my house after a nice, long yoga practice to discover that the grounds are literally covered, not just sprinkled with, but covered, with yellow and orange leaves. Maybe I’m naive, or just new to this country lifestyle. Maybe my gardener is laughingly counting his money today. And maybe I miss the way the grass looked yesterday, suspended for a moment in pure, bright green. But I’m glad that I took the time to enjoy it. And I have to say that what I see today here is beautiful as well. Different. But beautiful just the same.



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